


Skirting The Issue

by leashy_bebes



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leashy_bebes/pseuds/leashy_bebes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time it happened they were drunk, and afterwards, James freaked out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skirting The Issue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a gift to the comm for hp_nextgen_fest at livejournal. Thanks to femmequixotic for the beta.

Some days, Hugo reflected, just weren't worth the effort. After a group project went horribly awry, Hugo found himself in the laboratory until half past eight, discussing the potential errors with his lab-mates, from recipe interpretation, to harvesting, to ingredient preparation, to brewing. When they finally settled on the most likely cause - someone slicing the daisy root too finely in comparison to the pickled iguana liver - they decided it was late enough to justify a trip to the Pestle and Mortar down the road for wine and dinner. Hugo and his friends lingered in the pub for a good couple of hours, trading stories of their nightmare encounters with various professors.

Among the group was Lucas, someone Hugo had vaguely known from Hogwarts, a few years older. They'd been partnered together on their first day at the Academy, and tended to work well together. Hugo had seen Lucas's interest in him from the start, and their workplace friendship had grown into being some-time bed partners. It was always very casual and quiet between them, and Lucas was subtle as he hung back after the others, shooting Hugo a warm, questioning glance. Tempted but tired, Hugo shook his head and they parted company after a few words at the pub Floo, Lucas heading to his own flat and Hugo back to his parents' house.

Living at home was admittedly less than ideal, but the limited money on offer from his Academy bursary wouldn't cover accommodation as well as ingredients and books. Although he generally got on well with both of his parents, Hugo was getting more and more desperate for his own space. When he tumbled out of the Floo, his mother was the only one home, seated at the dining room table with papers spread around and a quill stuck in her hair, pinning it up into a messy knot.

She smiled as he arrived. "Evening, darling."

Hugo leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. "Alright, mum?"

"Fine. You? You look tired," she said, concern in her voice.

"I am," he admitted. "It's fine, though, I can handle it. Where's Dad?"

"Working late. You just missed Rosie, she wants you to go over for dinner some time next week."

Hugo nodded. "I'll owl her tomorrow. I think I'm going to get an early night, Mum."

"Okay, sweetheart. Sleep well."

Hugo dragged himself upstairs, deathly tired all of a sudden. He barely managed to brush his teeth and strip down to his underwear before he fell into bed, tugging the covers over his head, heavy eyelids drooping.

The next thing he was aware of was a warm hand shaking his shoulder, and for a mad moment he wondered if he'd overslept for the Academy and his mum was waking him the way she'd used to do in the holidays. He cracked one eye open to see it was still dark outside and groaned, turning his face back to the mattress.

"Hey," a familiar voice said.

"James?" Hugo asked a bit hoarsely, turning his head and blinking into the sudden light of a wand. Of course, who else would turn up in his bedroom at all hours of the night? They'd been sneaking back and forth since they were old enough to steal Floo powder, and Hugo had lost count of the number of times Uncle Harry or Aunt Ginny had shooed him home early in the morning. James still seemed to consider it his Merlin-given right to show up unannounced wherever Hugo was.

"Yeah," James whispered, white teeth bared in a smile. "Why? Who were you expecting?"

Hugo rubbed his eyes. "What're you doing here?"

"Budge up," James ordered. Not seeing the point in arguing, Hugo shuffled over in his bed, making room for James to fling himself down on top of the covers.

"James?"

"Hmm?"

"What d'you _want_, you stupid arse?"

"Aww, grumpy?" James teased, reaching out to grab Hugo's wrists as he attempted to pull the covers up over his head.

"Long day," Hugo conceded, tugging his hands out of James's grip and settling back against the pillows. He looked up at James, who was watching him wordlessly, dark eyes glinting. "So?"

After a moment, James shook himself, glancing around the room before he looked back to Hugo. "Mum's driving me mad."

"Hold the front page," Hugo said dryly, and James shoved his shoulder and laughed softly before sobering.

"Yeah," he admitted, leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him.

"So what was it this time?" Hugo tried to keep the sympathy out of his voice. James never had reacted well to such gestures, even if his strained relationship with his mother was probably the only thing that could genuinely be said to _bother_ him.

James shrugged. "The usual. I've no ambition and no drive and I'm basically an all-round disappointment."

"You are not," Hugo said. "No one thinks that."

"That, or they just think I'm a lazy bastard."

"James..." Hugo pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at James seriously. James was far from stupid, and Uncle George had confessed to Hugo's dad that he'd not had a better inventing partner since Uncle Fred. James had long ago told Hugo that he knew he could strive and strive to become the best of anything - Auror, healer, Quidditch player - and he still would never be able to _exceed_ the expectations placed on Harry Potter's first born son. As such, James had decided a long time ago that he saw no point labouring away and harbouring ambitions for the sole purpose of impressing people. He loved working at the shop, he loved working with Uncle George, and that was enough for James. Just, apparently, not for everyone else.

James jabbed Hugo in the ribs playfully. "Do I see pity?" he demanded. "I better not be seeing pity."

Hugo wriggled up to sit next to James. "Shut up." James's worn flannel shirt was soft against his arm. "Anything I can do?"

"Yes, actually," James said. "There is."

Hugo looked at James expectantly, waiting.

James took a deep breath and leaned closer, the conspiratorial look of childhood clear in his eyes. "Let's get a flat together."

"...what?" Hugo blinked, wondering if James was serious. He couldn't unthink the immediate impulse of: _yes, definitely, yes, please_, but he managed not to say it. Instead he looked at James closely, wondering if the totally untroubled expression on his face was for real.

"It'd be great," James promised. "We can split the costs. It'll be tight but we can muddle through, I reckon."

"I - " Hugo broke off, because much as his heart had leapt at the idea, he knew it was a terrible one really.

He would never claim to understand how it began, or when, or why, but there was _something_ between him and James, some closeness that tore at Hugo's heart because it was _too much_. What he wanted from James, from his _cousin_, was too much. The trouble was that James wanted it too. If it had just been Hugo, if it had just been about his own shameful desires, then he'd have found a way around it, a way to stop thinking about James. That was impossible though, completely impossible when there was an irresistible pull between them, when Hugo would sometimes catch James staring at him longingly.

But the worst of it all was that James wouldn't admit it. They would skirt around the issue and never actually mention it, even though there had been times over the last couple of years when Hugo had dared to hope that James was - _maybe, maybe, please, maybe_ \- about to cave in and kiss him. He never had, though. Neither of them had ever taken that step which would change things, for good or for bad. And that was why living together would be such an awful idea. There was no way it could be good for Hugo's sanity.

"It'll be great," James said again, nudging Hugo. Hugo looked at him evenly for a moment, and James went on. "I mean, Teddy's going to get sick of me kipping on his sofa every time me and Mum have a bust-up, and if I have to live with Al we'll both be dead within a week. Me and you, though...we'll have a blast."

"James - " Hugo said warily.

"Also, I suppose it'd make things a lot easier for you and what's-his-name."

"What?" Hugo blinked.

"Lucas, or whatever," James said lightly, his eyes skittering away from Hugo's face.

Hugo looked at him in surprise. "Lucas? How d'you know about - "

James shrugged casually. "Rose may have mentioned it."

"Since when do you talk about my sex life with my sister?" Hugo asked incredulously.

"I don't! I wasn't! It just... The name came up." James shrugged and stared at the wall for a long moment before saying, "I remember him from school. He's a dick."

Hugo frowned. "He's not a dick."

"Is."

"Not. Anyway, it's - we're not - it's nothing serious."

"Oh," James said. "Oh, okay. Right. So, what do you think?"

"I - "

"C'mon, you can't leave me like this."

"Like what?"

"Aged twenty, sneaking over to my aunt and uncle's house to bitch about my mother. It's pathetic. Save me?" James turned liquid brown eyes on Hugo.

"It _is_ pretty pathetic," Hugo said, his voice laden with fake sympathy.

James glared at him. "Oi. You're meant to be on my side."

"Oh, really? I missed the memo," Hugo said dryly. "Anyway, I'm agreeing with you."

"There's no memo, idiot. You're _always_ on my side, that's just how it is."

"Charmingly arrogant, even for you."

"Please?" James asked, and Hugo felt like a fist had clenched tight somewhere inside his chest. James _always_ did that. They would be talking, teasing, barbs in their voices, and then James would make the floor disappear from under Hugo's feet with an unexpected display of sincerity. James's gaze slid tellingly over Hugo's bare chest and sleepy face, and if Hugo had trouble turning James down at the best of times, then it was _impossible_ right then, when James looked hopeful and nervous, leashed excitement in his eyes.

Hugo nodded. "Alright."

"Really?" James asked, wide smile dawning on his face.

James's excitement was as infectious as ever, and Hugo found himself smiling. "Yeah."

James beamed at him. "You won't regret it, I swear."

"Of course I won't," Hugo said. "Any chance of you learning to cook at some point?"

"Definitely not now," James laughed, flinging an arm around Hugo's shoulder in a rough hug before leaning close, whispering '_thanks_' as he briefly rested his head atop Hugo's. Hugo closed his eyes and bit his tongue. He should be accustomed to such gestures by now, at least to the extent where he didn't freeze and have to fight a tremble, reflexively memorising the pressure of James's arm on his shoulders, the sweet brush of his breath.

"I - " James said after a moment. He cleared his throat and awkwardly pulled his arm back. "I should be going."

Hugo yawned and rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah. Early start tomorrow."

"Bless... I'll probably roll in about ten..."

"Fuck you," Hugo muttered, nudging James in the ribs.

"Jealousy. So sad. See you soon." With a grin, James pulled his wand to Apparate.

"Wait!" Hugo whispered. "Use the Floo, Mum and Dad are only a room away."

"And?" James laughed. "Oh," he said after a moment, dragging the word out, teasing tone not matched by his eyes. "Do they not approve of Lucas?"

"What? They've never even met – I didn't mean - " Hugo spluttered. He didn't want to think about why James had such an interest in whom he was shagging. "They disarm first and ask questions later when they hear loud noises, you know that."

James grinned again, smug self-satisfaction evident on his face. "Silencing charms. So useful."

"You – so why have we been whispering?"

"I don't know," James shrugged. "Old times?"

Hugo snorted. "You're an idiot," he said, and James punched his shoulder gently.

"I'll do some research on places to live," James promised before he Apparated.

Too tired to contemplate it any further, Hugo just slid down into bed, pulled the covers over his head, and promptly went back to sleep. When he woke the next morning, he wasn't entirely sure he hadn't dreamed the whole episode. Except that it was so obviously _James_ \- impulsive and abrupt and suddenly determined - that Hugo couldn't help but believe it. As he showered, ate a quick breakfast, and headed for the Academy, the full extent of what he'd agreed to started coming home to him. Living with James. Seeing him every day. _Wanting_ him every day...

At least he'd have a while to adjust to the idea, Hugo mused, time to build up the defences he would surely need against James's constant proximity. Of course, that assumption didn't take into account James's tenacity (or pig-headed obstinacy, depending on whom you asked). Hugo supposed he shouldn't have been surprised when a stack of flyers for two-bedroom flats, wizard and Muggle, arrived by owl the very next night. Hugo thought there might be an awkward moment when his mum saw him perusing the flyers. Of course, though, his parents didn't object – how could they? It was _James_. And because it was James, finding a place to live took far less time than Hugo was expecting.

After looking at a few flats scattered across London, they settled on one in a Muggle building. James flatly insisted he would pay for the licence required to perform household spells in a Muggle location and for the Floo connection. In a few weeks everything was arranged - mainly by James, who always got things done quickly once he'd decided on them. Hugo was surprised when, a few days before they were due to move into the flat, it was his dad rather than his mum who hugged him tight and slipped him a pouch full of galleons - _to see you through the first few months_, Dad had said, misty-eyed.

When the day actually came to move in, Hugo skived off an afternoon's study group at the Academy and James took a half-day from the shop. Together they Apparated back and forth between their parents' houses and the flat until there were boxes and bags piled everywhere.

"Wow." James stood in the living room, hands on his hips as he surveyed the chaos. "_Accio_ Firewhiskey," he called, reaching out a hand to grab the bottle that wormed its way out from one of his bags.

"No, no," Hugo insisted. "No _way_. Get all your stuff moved into your room and then we'll talk about a celebratory drink."

James blinked. "Whoa. It's almost like I've brought my mother with me."

Hugo laughed. "Shut up, idiot. I know you too well. We unpack now, or we unpack never."

"You are _such_ an old woman." James set the bottle down on the windowsill in favour of grabbing Hugo and pulling him into a hug. As ever, James was very careful to keep it casual, and as ever he _just_ failed. Hugo could feel James's fingers pressing a little too hard into his back, could hear the deep, shaky breath James drew in as though he was trying to get a taste of something intoxicating without overwhelming himself. And of course, it lasted too long, lingered too sweetly for a quick hug between cousins. Eventually, James pulled away and cleared his throat, giving Hugo a smile that was _almost_ awkward.

"Right." James stepped back from Hugo and hefted a bag onto his shoulder, levitating a couple of boxes as he walked off down the corridor. Hugo watched him go with a sinking feeling. He wondered if that combination of _nearly there_ and _awkward as hell_ would be the default setting for as long as they shared the flat.

Lingering awkwardness aside, Hugo quickly learned that James was almost an ideal flatmate. Granted, he didn't cook, but then Hugo didn't like to clean, and James was almost obsessively tidy. Most of the time, James would already be home by the time Hugo got back from the Academy, sprawled on the ugly-but-comfortable blue sofa, watching news or football or - somewhat unexpectedly - nature and science documentaries, on the Muggle television he'd insisted they get. If they weren't going out or meeting up with friends or family, Hugo would usually rustle up a quick dinner that they'd eat side by side on the sofa.

Hugo had tried not to believe that moving into the flat would be the catalyst for change, but the idea had taken root somehow, and he couldn't help his disappointment. Because James _still_ wouldn't even mention it. The only real difference was that now they were together every day, the little _almost_ moments came more frequently. James seemed happy to ignore concepts like personal space, happy to drape himself all over Hugo, to fall asleep tangled together on the sofa, one or both of them waking hard as a rock. And then James would make some awkward comment and shuffle off to his room, and the incident would go unmentioned in the morning.

While Hugo was still at school, or even while they were _both_ at school, separated by a couple of years and a House, it hadn't been too bad. But Hugo had known right from the start that living with James, and not trying to nudge him into just _making up his damn mind_ would be too much of an effort. Before long, his patience with the waiting game ran out and Hugo decided that if James wasn't going to do anything, he would have to.

However sharing such confined quarters with James had apparently sapped all Hugo's devious-planning reserves. His more original ideas dried up very quickly, and Hugo supposed that had something to do with the fact that James was only a wall's thickness away most nights, that he was there every morning, bleary-eyed and painfully gorgeous. It was impossible to think even in a normal, everyday kind of way, let alone to formulate an effective and sophisticated strategy to seduce his cousin.

So of course when it happened they were drunk, because Hugo had run out of more original ideas.

It was so far from an acceptably smooth Slytherin strategy that Hugo couldn't help feeling ashamed. Still, adaptability was key, and sometimes the old tropes really were the best. As a plan, however, it had seemed more sensible _before_ they'd actually started drinking, before James's eyes went soft and relaxed and he started leaning into Hugo, hands drifting over his arms and legs, tucking errant red curls behind Hugo's ear, his touches far too soft and lingering to be anything other than flirtatious.

Deciding that he didn't want to give James the chance to protest, or even realise what he was up to, Hugo waited until James declared they needed more drinks and pushed himself to his feet, using Hugo's shoulder for leverage. He trailed off into the kitchen, still chatting away. Hugo followed him and loitered outside the door until James stumbled back in with another bottle, and then he kissed him.

Half-cut and off balance, it was so easy to nudge James up against the doorframe, to push close to him, their bodies fitting together so perfectly Hugo almost expected to hear a click. James made a startled noise, a little _mmh_ of surprise, and Hugo knew he shouldn't have enjoyed that sound so much, not when James was frozen, still and unresponsive apart from the unsteady rise and fall of his chest. Hugo kissed James more gently, the tip of his tongue whispering across the plump lower lip that had haunted and taunted him in equal measure for _far_ too long.

James made another noise, this time one of broken, desperate acquiescence. It sang through Hugo's veins like a victory, and James's mouth opened under his, James's arms wrapped tight around his waist, and he surged forward against Hugo's body. The bottle James had been holding thudded to the floor, and Hugo wasn't sure if it broke or not, didn't care, because James tasted _sublime_, a delicious hot flash of his tongue, sudden bright flare of pain as he bit Hugo's lip. It made Hugo want to go to his knees right there, suck every ounce of self-control out of James and drink it down like fine wine. Instead he just kissed James harder because yeah, he wanted that, wanted to make James fall apart, wanted rough hands in his hair, and _ohgodyes_ whispered above him, but he also wanted...more.

_Everything_.

Because he might have been a Slytherin at school, so yeah he'd been worrying about _plans_ and so on, but only because...only because he was in love. Proper, full-on, hearts-on-fire _love_. So Hugo considered it Slytherin tactics for a Gryffindor cause when he started edging away from James, never far enough to break the kiss, but far enough that their bodies weren't pressed tight anymore. Sure enough James followed like he was on a fucking leash, and Hugo had to shut that thought down _very_ quickly as he steered them towards his bedroom.

"Hugo, wait." James breathed heavily as they collided with the doorframe, and Hugo realised vaguely that those were the first words either of them had spoken since that first kiss. They weren't the words he'd wanted to hear either, so he kissed James again, soft and pleading. James groaned, grabbed at Hugo like he couldn't help himself and the next thing Hugo knew they were tumbling onto the bed. James wormed his hands between their bodies, easily yanking Hugo's shirt over his head before disposing of his own, chucking it aside carelessly. Hugo parted his legs, bent them at the knees and squeezed James's hips between them before James groaned again, letting his weight fall directly on top of Hugo.

"James, oh my god," Hugo whispered, and the moment stretched until it snapped. James ducked his head and kissed the side of Hugo's neck, while Hugo grabbed his wand and Vanished what remained of their clothes. James looked up at that, blinking at Hugo in disbelief.

James laughed. "Did - you mad bastard, I _liked_ those trousers."

Hugo cast a gentle _Lumos_ and then dropped his wand into the sheets to run both hands down James's back, cupping his arse, pulling him in close and letting out a low hum of pleasure. James planted his hands on either side of Hugo's head and looked down at him intently. For a few long moments they ground mindlessly against each other, huffs of breath escaping, James's eyes wide and a bit wild, urgency in every line of his body.

After rearing up for a kiss, Hugo fumbled for his wand again. "_Accio_ lube," he gasped out. His movement was a little off and the resulting spell was too strong - the top drawer of the bedside cabinet rattled open so fast it fell to the floor, spilling all kinds of junk. The tube of lubricant almost hit James in the head as it flew over but he shifted in time and it landed on Hugo's chest instead.

"I - " James said, his eyes riveted on the tube for a moment before he glanced up at Hugo, his voice soft and unsure. "I don't - "

Hugo wrapped a hand around the back of James's neck and kissed him slowly, trying to pour all his certainty and affection into the gesture, desperate for James to understand, to accept it.

"I want you," Hugo told him earnestly between kisses. "So much. Please, James."

The _please_ appeared to be James's undoing. He let out a cut-off groan and kissed Hugo again, brief and hard, before he snatched up the lube greedily and looked down at Hugo with the corner of his mouth quirked up in a small, unreadable smile.

"Spread 'em," he joked, not a trace of nervousness or doubt showing in his voice anymore, and Hugo complied wordlessly, tilting his hips up. James swallowed convulsively, flipping the cap on the tube and squeezing a smear of lube across his fingers. They glistened in the barely-lit darkness, oily-slick and obscene, and Hugo bit his lip, eyes fluttering closed.

"Don't - " James said, the word slipping out as if without his consent, and Hugo opened his eyes again. James leaned down to kiss him, hard and hot and gasping as his fingers reached down between Hugo's legs, fumbling briefly before he found what he was looking for. A firm experimental press, a rub that made Hugo groan, and then James's finger slid inside of him. Hugo whimpered at little at the suddenness, but he wouldn't have changed anything about it for the world.

"Yeah?" James breathed, pushing deeper.

"Yeah..." Hugo sighed, curling his hands in the sheets below him. With James's seamless addition of another finger, Hugo threw his head back into the pillow, nudging his knee impatiently against James's side. James just laughed shakily, finger-fucking Hugo in an insistent rhythm, maybe a little rough, maybe a little too fast but Hugo couldn't help loving every single movement, every catch and drag as James opened him up, fingers twisting and stretching inside Hugo's body. James groaned and leaned down, kissing a sloppy path down Hugo's chest to his stomach before licking a blazing hot stripe up the underside of his aching erection.

Hugo cried out, the shout forced from him by sheer pleasure. "James!" James's lips closed around the head of Hugo's cock, sucking sweetly while his fingers continued to press and retreat, thrust and stretch, twist and rub in a way that made Hugo see sparks. Somewhere along the line, two fingers had become three and there was just a sting to the stretch now, a perfect little tremble of pain along with the pleasure.

James was murmuring feverishly against Hugo's skin, broken sentences that he apparently couldn't bring himself to finish, things like, _I want you so much - you always - fuck I don't I can't I want_. Hugo kept his eyes trained on James, and he didn't _want_ James to finish a sentence, or even a thought, because it was fine, it was so fine, because the desperation in James's movements made it clear that he meant: _it's not just you, I've wanted you for ages, I'm so close to not caring whether it's wrong_. Each of James's whispers set off a shiver of pleasure to rival even the physical sensations and Hugo had to fight to keep his eyes open in the onslaught, to watch James intently.

When he'd thought of this in the past, he'd always imagined James would be hesitant, that his Gryffindor morals would get in the way, but no, not even slightly. He was completely determined as he withdrew his fingers a little too quickly, making Hugo hiss. There was fire in James's eyes as he reached out blindly, grabbed a pillow and folded it in half, jamming it under Hugo's hips. Hugo raised one leg, pulling it back towards his body and James choked on a groan.

"Come on," Hugo urged, and James lurched forward, kissing Hugo desperately, tongue fucking into his mouth like a promise, fingers digging into Hugo's thigh. The kiss ended abruptly, and James bit along Hugo's jaw before mouthing kisses down his chest, wriggling back onto his knees. James's hand flailed out again, finding the lube with what looked like more luck than judgement. He slicked his cock quickly, eyes never leaving Hugo's face as he did it. Hugo couldn't resist grabbing James by the back of the neck and hauling him in for a kiss, even as his other hand went down between their bodies, fingers twining with James's, thumb pressing against the slick head of James's dick.

"Hugo - oh, god," James whispered. He caught his lower lip caught between his teeth. There was something in his eyes, a bit of doubt creeping up behind the lust. Hugo kissed him again, wanton and desperate, hand closing around James's hot, hard length.

"Fuck me," Hugo begged, barely audible over James's ragged breathing. James moved back, doubt apparently quashed. Hugo swallowed down a moan at the slip-sliding sensation of James lining himself up, so close, so goddamned close, and then -

James pushed forward and Hugo cried out at the initial sting, deliberately flexing around him, wanting to feel each fraction of every inch James gained. He stretched and arched his back, pushing his hips towards James.

With a broken moan that sounded like it was wrenched from somewhere deep inside his chest James surged forward, pushing deeper so suddenly that Hugo gasped and mouthed at the air uselessly. James went still inside him, tension like a loaded spring in the cant of his hips.

"Don't," Hugo managed to say, and James looked at him in alarm. "Don't you fucking stop _now_," he said, and James smiled - bared his teeth, anyway - and with both hands on Hugo's hips he made a few halting thrusts before finding a rhythm. Hugo's eyes fluttered shut against the onslaught of pleasure until one of James's hands left his hip, coming up to his shoulder instead, pushing Hugo into the bed, almost like James was using him for leverage. Hugo's eyes snapped open at that thought and he looked up at James again, drinking in the sight of his face contorted with pleasure.

"You're - fucking - gorgeous," James gasped, and Hugo sucked in a ragged breath. James bit his lip like he didn't want to risk speaking anymore. Hugo decided he couldn't have that and brought one hand up to his own chest, toying with his nipples before deliberately walking his middle and index fingers down his body. He wrapped his hand around his dick, and he didn't have to exaggerate his wanton moan, or the reflexive snap of his hips.

"Jesus _fucking Christ_, Hugo," James said, each word a staccato crack in the darkened room.

Hugo's hand moved fluid and perfect along his dick until James grabbed both his wrists and pinned them to the mattress. With a swallowed moan, James started rocking into him harder and faster, and Hugo hooked his legs around James's back, twisting his ankles together and opening himself up to it, driving back against each of James's thrusts. Hugo moaned and tried to free his hands, but James just tightened his grip, short nails digging into the back of Hugo's wrists.

"Yeah," James said, and he was staring, just _staring_, brown eyes locked onto Hugo's own. He pressed Hugo's hands deeper into the mattress, hips caught in an intoxicating rhythm. "_Yeah_," James said again, his voice a rough caress. "Fuckin'..._take it_."

The words shot straight to somewhere deep inside Hugo, and he managed to wrench one hand out of James's grip. James's hair was wet with sweat, damp spikes hanging in his eyes. Hugo reached up, digging his fingers into thick dark hair, tugging James down so their lips could meet in a harsh, messy approximation of a kiss. James bit Hugo's lip, sucked on his tongue, and let go of Hugo's other hand to hook around his jaw instead, thumb digging into Hugo's cheek.

Hugo turned his head away from the kiss to suck on James's thumb, tasting salt and sweat, moaning as James pulled his thumb back, tugging Hugo's lower lip into a pout that must have rivalled James's own.

"Harder," Hugo grunted and James shut his eyes, looking almost pained for a second before taking his weight on his hands and fucking into Hugo's body harder and faster. Hugo tilted his hips just a fraction more, and suddenly James was rubbing perfectly over Hugo's prostate every single time, back and forth. It was nearly too much, the constant pleasure and the thorough, almost rough invasion, the weight and solidity of James's body above him, the hot breath on his face.

When Hugo reached down again it only took him a couple of tugs to bring himself off, body arching up against James's, heels pressing into James's back. Every muscle in his body tensed and released with the rush of his orgasm and it somehow made James feel even bigger inside him, thicker and hotter as Hugo clenched wildly around him.

"Oh god - oh god, oh - " James gritted out, all semblance of rhythm gone from his movements as his thrusts turned ragged and desperate. Hugo tilted his hips towards James submissively, greedy for any scrap of sensation, even if the burn of his over-sensitive nerve endings threatened to become more painful than pleasurable. It wasn't an issue for long though, because James soon went still, buried to the hilt in Hugo's body, sweet, sweet pressure like he was trying to get even deeper. Hugo groaned, fingers carding roughly through James's hair, pulling him down into another messy kiss, tongue fucking in counterpoint to the last stuttering movements of James's hips as he came.

James fell still, and Hugo could feel the tension in his shoulders growing by the second as he stroked his fingertips over warm, sweat-slicked skin. James soon shrugged him off under the pretext of carefully pulling out of his body, but Hugo grabbed at him again before he could go too far.

"I - " James said in a tiny voice, and Hugo pulled his mostly-unresisting body closer. James rested his forehead on Hugo's chest and Hugo could feel him blinking rapidly. "_Fuck_," he whispered, and Hugo could hear so much in that single syllable. Regret and fear and guilt and confusion, and it was all too much, too messy to deal with right then.

"Shut up, James," Hugo said lightly. James nodded, obviously taking it as it was meant: _be quiet and let us have this_. For a wonder, James did as he was told, and if his fingers were a little tight, a little tense in their grip on Hugo's ribs, that was only to be expected.

Hugo woke up a few hours later to James slamming the front door on his way out of the flat. He could already feel the impending hangover throbbing at his temples and the bang of the door echoed horribly in his ears, but he was aching pleasantly, and when he rolled over and buried his face in the pillows everything still smelt and tasted and felt like James.

As he stood under the hot water of the shower later, Hugo closed his eyes, resting his head against the condensation-streaked tiles and trying not to think. They'd been skirting around the escalating tension between them for too long, ignoring it or half-joking about it, but never confronting it, and certainly never letting it explode out of them in the way it had last night. Despite how long it had been building, and how thoroughly the idea kept on turning Hugo's world upside down, he'd been unprepared for just how good the sex would be, how perfectly their bodies would fit together, or how James would taste like spice and honey, pure paradise. And of course, of _course_ James hadn't stayed, not straight away, that would be far too easy, far too simple for this crazy situation.

Hugo might have come to terms with the fact that the person he wanted beyond all others was someone he'd essentially been raised alongside, someone he'd been brought up to consider as something like a cross between a best friend and a brother, but he wasn't naïve enough to think that James would have likewise adjusted to the reality of the matter just because of one shag. James had always been more concerned than Hugo with what others thought of him. Not in a narcissistic way, he was just worried about letting people down, about disappointing his family more than he felt he already had, and Hugo sort of understood that - Hugo loved his family, after all, and didn't much like the idea of them being unhappy with his choices in life. But given the option of making them proud or making himself happy, Hugo knew what he would choose, and as he stood under the shower trying to rinse away his headache, he couldn't help worrying that James would make a different choice.

The concern that James would choose familiarity and 'normality' over whatever was between them only increased when James didn't come back to the flat at all for three days. Assuming he'd be at Teddy's, Hugo wasn't _worried_, as such, more faintly irritated at James's habit of heading for the hills when things got complicated.

When he did come home, James pointedly derailed Hugo's fumbling attempts to broach the subject of what had happened between them. Then there was about a fortnight where James was never home for more than a few hours at a time, and when he was, he was invariably accompanied by a pretty girl. Hugo heard more sex noises and more _oh-James-fuck-me-harder_s than he'd have liked but he just tried to ignore them all, because...whatever. Whatever James needed to get from the first time to the second time. Because there _would_ be a second time, Hugo was sure of it. There was too much between them, they'd been playing this game for too long for it to end in a simple one-off.

At least, that was what Hugo thought at first, before the days and nights of random girls thinned out to be replaced by weeks of awkward silences and deliberately casual conversation. So maybe it wouldn't end with the one-off, maybe it would end with things just...fizzling out between them. Maybe that momentary release of lust would be the one thing in the world that could kill their life-long camaraderie. That idea was almost too much. Hugo dragged himself to and from training at the Potions Academy every day, and it was like a pounding beat in his mind that things had gone too far, that James was too scared to let them move forward, and Merlin knew they couldn't go back. Not after that.

Not a day went by when Hugo didn't remember the way it was between them that night, how James had pinned him to the bed, the heat of James's mouth, the weight of his body, the thick mess of his hair under Hugo's hands, the tang of his sweat, the perfect, incomparable taste of his skin and the way he drove so relentlessly in and out of Hugo's body leaving him simply wrecked by the sheer pleasure of it. The idea of never having that again was bad enough, but the thought of losing everything _else_ was so much worse. For as long as Hugo could remember they'd been best friends. Sort of. Something like friends, something like brothers, something like the other half of each other. The idea of losing that had been enough to make Hugo back off a little. He had decided to tread carefully, not to force James to confront the issue before he wanted to.

That resolution was sorely taxed by the time two whole months had passed and James still hadn't so much as glanced at him a bit funny, much less actually broached the subject. Then, one Saturday morning, Hugo was in the kitchen making breakfast when he heard James showing a girl out of the flat. He couldn't see anything from where he was, but with the kitchen door open, he could hear well enough and the low rumble of James's morning-after voice made him frown, probably because he'd never actually got to hear it for himself.

"So...maybe I'll see you again?" the girl asked, her voice casual.

"Yeah, maybe," James said noncommittally and there was a brief not-completely-silent silence that was probably a kiss. Hugo gritted his teeth and chucked his second slice of toast in the bin, no longer hungry. He was standing by the kettle making a cup of tea when James strolled in. He puttered about the kitchen, yawning and stumbling a little. Unable to help himself, Hugo clattered a bit more forcefully than necessary as he made his tea, slamming drawers and throwing the teaspoon into the cup with a loud metallic rattle.

Eventually James fell silent until over the sound of boiling water, he asked, "Is there something you'd like to say?"

Hugo didn't bother to turn and face James. "Not even a little."

"Believable," James observed. "Sounds like you're really putting some effort into the lie."

_Fuck you_, Hugo wanted to say. Instead he set the kettle down without pouring any water and turned to glare at James who was sitting on the opposite worktop in just a pair of boxer shorts, watching Hugo casually, drumming his heels against the cupboard door beneath him.

"You do realise none of them gives a toss about you?" Hugo asked, folding his arms across his chest. "They're only interested in shagging Harry Potter's son."

Hugo wasn't entirely sure if that was true or not. After all, he'd managed to find himself head over heels for James and he couldn't give a damn who his father was, which was really just as well, all things considered. Maybe he wasn't giving the girls enough credit. Maybe one or more of them genuinely liked James, but Hugo didn't feel like being reasonable when it came to other people with their hands on James's body, so fuck them. Stupid bitches with their over the top sex noises and their annoying laughs. Hugo _hated_ them, and the worst part was that however _they_ felt, he was pretty sure James didn't feel anything beyond a fleeting attraction for any of them. It was so completely unfair - that knowing what the two of them had, or could have, James would still choose meaningless fucking and a shallow semblance of normality.

"I'm aware of that," James said, and Hugo scoffed. "Don't fucking _judge_ me," James snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously. He jumped down from the counter and stalked across the room to poke Hugo in the chest. "It's not like you haven't had your fair share of blokes. Just 'cause I like both..."

"Right," Hugo said, nodding tightly and batting James's hand away. "That's what I'm doing. Judging you for being bisexual."

James glared. "What, then?"

"You _know_ what!" Hugo snapped, scowling at James. Because of course James knew, there was no way he _couldn't_ know. And he was right, it wasn't as though Hugo was as pure as the driven snow, and he'd always known that James wasn't either. What annoyed Hugo wasn't the sex, it was the pointless, stubborn, proving-a-point nature of the sex. Not only was James not fucking his cousin, he wasn't even fucking people the same _gender_ as his cousin. See how normal he was?

"I - " James said heatedly, hands balled into fists and then he moved sharply and Hugo almost flinched when James raised one hand. Instead of hitting him, James grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him hard. Frustrated, Hugo reached out, hands landing on James's hips, probably pressing too hard against the bone. James just groaned though, and for someone with such a lush, soft looking mouth, he kissed hot and dirty, lips rough against Hugo's as though he was exorcising the pain and confusion of this nameless, undeniable _thing_ between them.

Hugo let James push him back against the worktop, his palms pressed to the small of James's back, dragging him in close. James sucked on Hugo's lower lip, then on his tongue, teeth scraping, one hand on Hugo's shoulder and one on his hip, angling him closer. James's skin was warm under Hugo's hands, all sleek muscles and smooth skin and Hugo wanted to touch long and hard enough to erase any trace of the girl from the previous night, or any other girl for that matter.

"Hugo..." The word slipped from James's mouth to Hugo's in a near-silent rush.

"James," Hugo breathed back, both hands in James's hair, luxuriating in the thick black tangles around his fingers, in the way James's lips were so soft and yet so forceful and demanding. James parted their mouths with a wet noise and a shuddering exhale, transferring his attention to Hugo's jaw, sharp little trail of bites over the bone, up to his ear and then down his throat. Hugo's head tipped back and to the side and James sucked at the tendon in his throat.

Hugo slid his hands down from James's hair, over the smooth skin of his back to tease at the waistband of James's boxers, fingers dipping inside to press against the tempting swell of his arse. James made a choked noise and mumbled something incomprehensible into Hugo's skin. Hugo felt like he was burning up inside his clothes, itched to get rid of them, but something didn't feel quite right. James's kisses were slowing against Hugo's neck as though the initial wave of frustration and lust had subsided and he was coming back to himself. After a moment, he took half a step back and looked at Hugo, obviously troubled.

"I - "

Hugo shook his head. "Don't." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to James's again. James stayed still for a long moment until Hugo managed to coax him into another open-mouthed kiss, James's breath shuddering out shakily.

"I - can't," James said, turning his head away, looking wrecked, looking like someone had just ruined his week, or maybe his life.

"James - "

"No!" James said more forcefully, stepping away and putting safe distance between them, his hands on Hugo's shoulders, holding him at arm's length. "We can't do this again."

_Why the hell not_, Hugo thought but didn't get a chance to say as James shook his head, and fixed his eyes on a point behind Hugo.

"It's too fucked up," James said, fingers tightening on his shoulders.

"Don't - "

"I'm going to stay with Teddy for a few days, okay? I don't - I can't do this now," James said, dropping his hands from Hugo's shoulders suddenly, like he'd only just realised they were still there.

"Some Gryffindor," Hugo choked out as James backed up towards the door.

"What?"

"You're a fucking coward," Hugo snapped.

"I - Yeah. Maybe," James admitted, and he at least had the grace to look embarrassed. That didn't stop him leaving though, turning on his heel and all but fleeing from the kitchen. The door to his bedroom clicked shut quietly and then a few minutes later the crack of his Disapparition echoed through the flat.

"Damn it," Hugo muttered into the empty air, rubbing a hand over his face.

When James came home later in the week, he was different. Determinedly pleasant for a start, which was just weird. They cared about each other, obviously, but they always joked and teased and they were very rarely _polite_, which James was, all of a sudden. Such alien, unfailing politeness – like he was a guest unsure of his welcome – put Hugo on the back foot. It was as though James had carefully and systematically shut down everything that was out of the ordinary between them. He acted as though they were flatmates and nothing more, barely even cousins, let alone...whatever they were.

James threw himself into his work at the shop, and although there were no more girls - that Hugo saw, anyway - James was so kind and distant that it was almost worse than the revolving-bedroom-door policy of before. Hugo knew how James felt, of course. He understood the confusion, the way it felt to be torn between what you wanted to do and what you knew you _should_ do. Hugo understood that better than anyone did, and that was what frustrated him. James surely had to know that Hugo was in exactly the same position, had struggled with exactly the same problems, and he still refused to broach the subject, or really, even to acknowledge that there _was_ a subject.

Hugo had always assumed that James was just a few steps behind him on the path to accepting what was between them. Now though, he was forced to wonder if that had been mistake. Maybe there was something - family, normality, history - that James just wouldn't be able to get past, wouldn't be able to accept. Maybe it wasn't just a matter of time, maybe it would _never_ happen, not the way Hugo wanted it to. That thought stung and Hugo couldn't help following James's lead, stubbornly letting the distance between them persist until they were barely talking.

Shared dinners became a thing of the past as one or both of them usually returned from work late enough that the other had already resorted to take-away food. Late nights in front of the Muggle television went the same way - they couldn't manage comfortable silences anymore, and they couldn't even make conversation without it petering off into meaningless small talk. For once Hugo couldn't guess how James felt about the situation because he had somehow developed this way of going completely expressionless, but as far as Hugo was concerned the small talk was almost the worst of it. Hugo had always disliked the way some people expected others to talk simply to fill the silence. It had never been that way with James before, and Hugo couldn't help the boiling resentment that rose up inside him every time they had another stilted exchange.

Things came to a head after what was the probably the most aggravating day Hugo had ever lived through. After another mostly wordless breakfast with James, Hugo found himself unable to focus properly and it led to a hellish day at the Academy. He had a run in with the distinctly unfriendly Professor Matherson, and followed it up with a string of OWL-level mistakes. The others all noticed and shot him sympathetic glances that only made him feel more incompetent.

He had just decided to give the day up as a bad job and go home when Lucas and a few others waylaid him and determinedly ignoring his protests, dragged him to the pub for what Amy called _a decompression drink_. That lead to a long, confused conversation in which the Muggleborns in the group attempted to explain scuba diving to the others. Hugo mainly kept silent, staring into the depths of his glass and trying not to think about going home to another quietly, endlessly frustrating night.

He could feel the others watching him almost warily and wondered just how long his stinker of a mood had been visibly brewing. In an effort to make up for it, he volunteered to get in the next round and fought his way through the growing after-work crowd to the bar. As he waited for the drinks to be poured, Hugo drummed his fingertips on the smoothly polished bar surface, startled when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Hey," Lucas said quietly, his voice barely audible over the increasingly raucous conversation around them.

"Hey," Hugo said, trying to muster a halfway convincing grin. Unlike James, Hugo had found it difficult to consider going with anyone else ever since _that night_, and nothing had happened between him and Lucas for a long time.

"You fancy going on somewhere after this?" Lucas asked, and Hugo paused for a moment, considering it. He could take Lucas home, and James could be the one listening to _fuck yes please harder_.

"I - no, I don't think I do."

"You're no fun anymore," Lucas chided gently, and Hugo snorted.

"Too true," he admitted, looking up at Lucas. "I just - there's this - "

"Hey," Lucas said, waving a hand dismissively. "You've no obligation to make up excuses for me."

"Right." Hugo nodded wryly. "Give me a hand with these drinks, yeah?"

Lucas gathered up a few glasses and headed back to the table while Hugo waited for Amy's complicated Gillywater cocktail, watching Lucas trace his way back to the table. _That_, Hugo told himself, was exactly what he should want. Straightforward and easy and free of all the myriad complications that came with James. Of course deep down, Hugo knew he would take complicated with James over straightforward with someone else any day. Hugo shook his head at his own ridiculousness and headed back with the remaining drinks, deciding to relieve his friends of his frankly appalling company after the next drink.

When he got home, the flat was quiet and dark, and it took him a moment to spot the note stuck on a cupboard door in the kitchen.

_At the Leaky with about a million relatives. Come and join us._

J.

Hugo tugged the note from the door and balled it up in his fist, tossing it in the general direction of the bin. He didn't know why his patience had finally run out today of all days, but he couldn't deny the sharp wave of resentment that James was able to be so completely casual. Trying to swallow the bitter notion that maybe what had happened between them meant a lot more to him than it had to James, Hugo grabbed a bottle of pumpkin juice and headed to his room, resolving to stay out of James's way until he felt better able to control his temper.

His plan collapsed, though, of course. After a few hours of perusing advanced textbooks, Hugo felt like his eyes were about to stage a revolt, and he rubbed a hand over his face. The flat was still quiet, so Hugo hurried through to the kitchen. He was in the middle of pouring a cup of tea when he heard the Floo roar into life in the other room and he swore under his breath. There was no way to get back to his room without passing James so Hugo squared his shoulders, grabbed his teacup and headed into the living room. His plan - to breeze past with the kind of casual greeting James himself usually excelled at - failed miserably. James wore loose fitting black jeans and a ridiculous Gryffindor t-shirt, well-worn and stretched tight across his shoulders, and Hugo couldn't understand why the sight of his cousin stopped him in his tracks, but it did. It was something about the way James blinked owlishly at him in the semi-darkness, or the way his hair hung thick and glossy into his eyes, or the slight, drunken smile on his face that made him look more approachable than he had in weeks.

In spite of the immediate pang of desire, Hugo couldn't quite bring himself to forget that James was the only person who ever made him feel weak and stupid and vulnerable. James was, in fact, probably the only person who could hurt Hugo to such a depth and never even realise. It seemed horribly unfair, and when James tried to kick off his shoes and ended up tripping over his feet, Hugo was still planning to just walk away. Instead, he found himself setting his cup down on the coffee table and nudging James towards the sofa.

"Sit," he ordered.

James blinked up at him. "Did you not see my note?" he asked.

Hugo nodded, trying not to let his lips thin the way his mother's did when she was annoyed. "I saw it."

"Oh," James said, finally managing to get rid of his shoes. "Why didn't you come?"

Hugo shrugged. "Didn't feel like it. You alright? Not going to pass out or puke or anything?"

"Er...no," James said. "I'm not _that_ pissed."

"Right. Night, then," Hugo nodded, turning away, reaching for his cup of tea, intending to beat a hasty retreat. Before he managed it though, James lurched to his feet and grabbed Hugo's arm, inexorably turning him until they were facing each other.

"Are you - angry with me?" James asked tentatively.

"Oh, well spotted," Hugo said dryly. "Not much gets past you, does it?" _Apart from the important things._

"I - Hugo, I don't underst - "

"Correct," Hugo said sharply.

"I - "

"I'm tired, I've got a long day tomorrow, see you - "

"Wait a damn minute!" James snapped, and Hugo tried to sidestep him. James thwarted his efforts, one hand falling on Hugo's shoulder and the other on his waist. Hugo very deliberately dropped his eyes to look at James's hands clenched tight in his t-shirt, and then looked up into his face again.

"Yeah?" he asked softly, challengingly. "Now what?"

James blinked at that and opened his mouth as though he was about to speak before closing it again.

"Thought as much," Hugo nodded, easily stepping out of James's loosened grip and walking around him towards his bedroom. With a sneaking suspicion that he was acting like a little kid whose crush had rejected them, Hugo closed his bedroom door and ran a hand over his face, deciding to leaf through his notes from the day to see what he'd need for tomorrow.

Only a few minutes had passed when there was a soft knock at the door. Ignoring it seemed churlish even to Hugo and he waved his wand at the door to open it. James leant against the doorframe with Hugo's forgotten teacup in his hand.

"I, er...here," James said, setting the cup down on Hugo's bedside table.

Hugo looked up at James. "Thanks." James paused for a moment, hands clenching into fists and then relaxing again at his sides. He seemed so uncharacteristically uncertain and hesitant that Hugo couldn't help sighing, running a hand over his face and muttering an apology.

"S'alright," James said, sitting next to Hugo on the bed, a carefully reasonable amount of space between them. "Bad day?"

"Yeah."

"That all?" James asked, and Hugo closed his eyes briefly.

"No, James. That's not all."

"So, what's...?"

Hugo blinked. "Really? You _really_ need to ask?"

James sighed and was silent for a long moment. "I suppose not. Hugo I'm - this is such a fucking mess."

"It doesn't have to be," Hugo said flatly. "Maybe we need to just...just stay away from each other. I _hate_ this. I hate - I hate the fact that I can't think about anything else."

"I know," James said, his voice tiny. "I - don't know what to say."

Hugo shrugged. "Nothing _to_ say. I don't want anyone else, and you don't want me."

"Don't say that. It's not _don't want_, it's _can't_."

"I'm telling you that you can," Hugo sighed, and a long silence fell.

"I just - I'm sick of disappointing everyone," James said cagily, and Hugo couldn't help but be stung by that. He shot James an incredulous look. James winced and hastened to add, "I didn't mean it like - "

"Right," Hugo nodded, "Let's just – not, then. Let's just forget it and pretend it never happened, yeah? Because that's worked out brilliantly so far." The words spilled out unbidden, and Hugo abruptly realised that he was probably still _far_ too annoyed to deal with James in an even vaguely reasonable manner.

"Hugo," James said, and his quiet voice cut Hugo off completely. "I just..." He shuffled a little closer and Hugo held his breath as James's cool fingers settled over his tightly clenched fist. "I don't know what to do."

"Yes, you do," Hugo countered.

James lowered his eyes. "I just..." he said again. "Can I - "

Hugo didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't to find James suddenly pressed against his side, his forehead against Hugo's temple, arms wound tight around him.

"What - " Hugo managed to ask, but James shushed him, arms tightening further as he breathed in deep, their faces still close. It was all Hugo could do to keep breathing and sit still, but James just stayed there, moulded against his side. The tight tension in James's arms melted what remained of Hugo's irritation and he shifted ever so slightly against James. "What're you doing, eh?" he asked softly.

"I don't _know_," James said weakly. "I - "

Hugo shivered when James's lips pressed against the corner of his jaw. "James..."

"Just...slowly, yeah?" James asked. "I - give me time."

"Time?"

James nodded against Hugo's face. "It's like I - I can't say no to you - to this."

"Maybe you should stop trying?" Hugo suggested and James laughed dryly.

"Just like that? Easy, huh?"

"I never said anything about easy," Hugo admitted, and he turned to face James, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes, moving one hand to drag his fingers through James's hair.

"Right," James sighed. "Do you think you could just...give me some time? Stop being so angry with me?"

"I don't mean to," Hugo said guiltily. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright," James said. "I understand."

Hugo took one of James's hands in his own, twining their fingers together. They sat in silence for a long moment, and James squeezed Hugo's hand.

"I've missed you," Hugo admitted, and it should have been ridiculous because they saw each other all the time, but James just nodded.

"Me too."

"Stay," Hugo blurted out. "Don't go, stay. Tonight."

"I - okay."

Hugo, unsure what would and wouldn't be acceptable, kissed James's cheek lightly. When he moved back, James's eyes were closed, lashes dark against the slight flush on his face.

In the end they fell asleep together on top of Hugo's bed covers, still fully clothed, curled on their sides facing each other. Hugo woke some time in the night to feel James tugging the covers up over both of them. That time, James curled a lot closer, one arm across Hugo's chest, their legs tangled. Hugo could feel his heart thudding hard in his chest and he passed his hand gently over James's hair, feeling it slip like silk beneath his touch.

"Hmm?" James murmured.

"Nothing," Hugo said. "Go to sleep."

James pressed himself a little closer and sighed contentedly. Hugo wanted to stay awake, to savour every second of the feeling of James in his arms but he felt his eyelids drooping and he relaxed in James's grip.

The next thing he was aware of was his alarm beeping, early morning sunshine pouring through the curtains he'd never got around to closing the night before. Hugo slapped his wand to switch the alarm off, and only then realised James was gone.

"Bugger." Hugo levered himself out of bed and then breathed a sigh of relief when he registered the sound of the radio blaring in the kitchen.

"Morning," James called as Hugo walked into the room. Hugo raised his eyebrows and slid into a seat. James seemed a little fidgety and at first he struggled to look Hugo in the eye, but compared to the morning after the first time, this was an unqualified success. Hugo ate cereal and drank water while James demolished toast, eggs, bacon, and three different kinds of fruit (about the extent of his culinary repertoire).

Hugo nodded towards the apple in James's hand. "Doesn't automatically make it healthy, you know."

"Growing boy," James shrugged and Hugo laughed, kicking him under the table.

Hugo didn't want to break the peace that had seemingly descended, but he didn't think he could bear it if last night became another one of those occasions they pointedly didn't discuss. He cleared his throat and looked at James, who shot him a crooked smile and reached across the table to squeeze his wrist.

Hugo nodded, unable to help a smile. "Okay. Good. Mind if I have the first shower?"

"No, go on. I'll sort things in here and see you tonight." As James stacked plates and bowls, his ran his hand over the back of Hugo's arm, a fleeting caress that made Hugo smile. Definitely, immeasurably better than last time.

After that night, things changed again. They still didn't openly discuss what had happened, and James was frustratingly silent on the topic of exactly what it was between them, but Hugo couldn't bring himself to care about that too much, not when James steadfastly _didn't_ bring anyone else home. In fact, everything that had driven Hugo so mad before was carefully not repeated. James didn't withdraw from Hugo, he didn't work late to avoid him, and he didn't carefully maintain a particular physical distance between them.

The tension between them was still there but now instead of boiling away, threatening to consume them both, it simply simmered and bubbled, a constant and natural counterpart to their every interaction. It was easier to relax in such an atmosphere than in one where they were both determined to ignore each other and to ignore their attraction. The other thing that Hugo belatedly noticed was that, unlike the previous time, when James had gone out of his way to avoid even being in the same _flat_ as Hugo, their personal space requirements seemed to have disappeared altogether. James was forever wrapping his arm around Hugo, touching his hair, or his face, or his hands.

Hugo only realised how natural it had become for them to lean into each other and ground themselves with the other's presence, when they had to attend one of their Gran's dinners. James was very, very careful, and Hugo found that it felt weird not to have James right next to him, not to be able to reach out and touch his hand, lean against him in comfortable, companionable silence. That night they went back to the flat and James, having endured another lecture from his mum about his lack of career ambition, threw himself down onto the sofa with a weary sigh, his eyes closing as he leaned his head against the cushions.

"Alright?" Hugo asked, looking down at him in concern.

James laughed mirthlessly. "No. Didn't you hear? I'm a feckless waste of space."

"I don't think she _quite_ said that," Hugo pointed out gently.

"That's alright for you to say, Mr. Potions Genius." James sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "I _know_ I'm the family fuck-up, I just don't need the reminder every time, you know?"

"James, you're not - " Hugo started, frowning.

James waved a hand. "I know, I know. Just - she..."

"I know," Hugo nodded. "Cup of tea?"

"Please," James nodded, tipping his head back into the touch as Hugo ran his fingers lightly over James's hair as he passed into the kitchen.

When he got back with two steaming mugs of tea, James took one and watched silently as Hugo settled himself in what had become a customarily close position on the sofa. They drank their tea in companionable silence and when James got to his feet to take the mugs back into the kitchen he paused briefly before yanking Hugo to his feet and into an unexpected bear-hug. After a ringing slap on the back, contrasting sharply with a softly whispered _thanks_, James loped off into the kitchen, leaving Hugo to stare after him, amusement and affection warring for dominance inside him.

It carried on like that for a few peaceful weeks, and Hugo felt as though he was breathing a sigh of relief with his whole body. He hadn't realised until the tension dissipated just how oppressive it had become. In some ways it was as though they were children once more, their friendship seeming to blossom all over again. It was refreshing, as though before, Hugo had been so caught up in the frustration of the stumbling block they seemed to have hit that he'd forgotten all the _other_ ways that they were perfectly compatible. Because James was sexy and handsome and charming, _yes_, but he was also intelligent and witty and caring in his own way, and he could make Hugo smile more easily than anyone else he knew.

And so one night when James dropped his arm across Hugo's shoulders in the midst of a conversation and never removed it, Hugo decided that it was only natural to rest his hand on James's knee and turn his head to nuzzle against James's cheek. For just a moment James didn't react at all and then he took a shaky breath and turned so that one more tiny movement from either of them would result in a kiss. Hugo felt his breath catch in his throat as he waited, almost afraid of frightening James off. And with good reason it seemed, because James breathed in sharply and moved away a little.

"Hugo, I...I don't know if I can," he admitted, sounding frustrated.

Rather than feeling annoyed this time, Hugo just sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead.

"Really?" he asked, opening his eyes to look at James. "Honestly? Still?"

James dropped his gaze. "I..."

Hugo ducked his head to look James in the eye and leaned in to kiss him gently. When Hugo moved back again, James's eyes were closed, a near-frown creasing his brow, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Hugo sat back on the sofa, trying to look as unthreatening as possible as he took hold of James's hand and squeezed it gently.

"Look," Hugo started, with only a vague idea of what he would say. "I know it's maybe - "

"Wait," James said, pulling his hand free. "You want a beer or something? I get the feeling this is the kind of conversation where beer might help."

"No," Hugo said, stung. "But you carry on if you've got to."

"Er – what?"

"I don't need to be drunk to want this, James, and if you do, then maybe - "

"You think – " James interrupted with a shocked, humourless bark of laughter. "You think I only want you when I'm drunk?"

"So it would seem." Hugo raised his eyebrows, trying not to sound hurt. He didn't know whether he really believed that, but drink was certainly a common factor in the times James _had_ managed to overcome his doubts in any way that really counted.

"You – you're an _idiot_. I want you all the _time_," James said bleakly. "Why do you think I'm in such a mess?"

"James, I know – " Hugo started gently but James cut him off.

"You don't! You have no idea!"

Hugo glared at him. "Yeah, you're right. I've _no_ idea what it's like to want my cousin, someone I grew up with, when everyone used to say _oh they could be brothers_. No idea what it's like to know that getting the one thing I want could fuck up _everything_ else and wanting it anyway. I haven't got a fucking _clue_, James."

"Hugo, don't," James said miserably. "I – I know, okay, but it's different for me."

"How? How is it different?" Hugo demanded.

"I'm...older than you. No, shut up," James went on as Hugo opened his mouth to protest that two years was _nothing_. "I know it's not much, but – everyone's always said, you know... I look at you and I think, yeah, there's Hugo, my little cousin and I've got to look after him, got to make sure nothing bad happens to him."

Hugo gritted his teeth. "I don't need looking after."

"I know you don't," James said hastily. "But that's what I think, when I look at you. And I also think, there's Hugo and I want him more than I've ever wanted anyone. And I can't – I can't think both those thoughts anymore, it's killing me."

"I used to hate it," Hugo said into the silence that followed. "All that crap people spouted about being so close, such good cousins to each other. I think I've wished you weren't my cousin since I was about five."

James looked at him askance. "Oh, thanks."

"No, because... I don't know. I didn't like the way everyone acted as though we were only close _because_ we were cousins. I always wanted more than that, James. _Always_. Even before it was...this," Hugo said, waving a hand between them.

James nodded tightly, rubbing his forehead as though he had a headache coming on.

"So, alright, in an ideal world, you wouldn't be my cousin," Hugo admitted. "But you are. And I _don't care_."

"But what if... you shouldn't settle for _this_, Hugo. For what I feel able to give you. And it makes me wonder...I want to look out for you, but what if all I'm actually going to do is hurt you? What if I'm the thing that fucks up your life?"

"Don't be so - " _Melodramatic_, Hugo wanted to say, but James cut him off before he got that far.

"We both deserve more than someone we can never talk about."

"Who says we can't?" Hugo asked a bit weakly. "People - plenty of people even _marry_ their cousins."

"You think? Still?" James asked. "Their _first_ cousins?"

"I - yeah." Hugo shrugged, not entirely sure if it was true or not.

"And you think - what? That everyone'd be..._happy_? Think they wouldn't even bat an eyelash?"

"Maybe," Hugo said defiantly.

"You're joking, right? Keeping it in the family? Way too Pureblood. Almost elitist. They'll go spare."

"Fine, then. They don't have to know," Hugo said. "They _never_ have to know. I just want - I just want you to admit to yourself that this is what you want."

"I - " James started and then broke off, looking away from Hugo. "I love you," he blurted suddenly, without looking round, and Hugo blinked. He certainly hadn't been expecting that, and he was utterly tongue-tied for long enough that James stuttered on. "I shouldn't but I do, and - "

"Shh," Hugo interrupted, reaching for James's hand. It trembled in his grip for a moment before James's fingers tightened around his own. "Shh," Hugo whispered again, bringing James's hand to his lips, kissing his fingertips. "Me too," he confessed, and James finally looked at him, the wary glance of a cornered animal. "Me too, James, oh god. So much."

James carefully pulled his hand away from Hugo's, but only to wind both arms around Hugo's waist, pulling him as close as he could. He pressed his forehead against Hugo's shoulder and Hugo held him, one hand toying with his hair as James breathed deeply.

"It's okay," Hugo promised. "It'll be okay. I love you."

James nodded twice against Hugo's shoulder, breathed in sharply and raised his head, pressing a hard close-mouthed kiss to Hugo's lips, hands closing around his upper arms. After a long moment James broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Hugo's, eyes still closed, breath shaking out against Hugo's skin before he moved away with a deep sigh and rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a shaky little laugh.

"Way too deep," he muttered and Hugo laughed along with him. "I need - " James said, getting to his feet. "Two seconds."

He came back from the kitchen with a small bottle of pumpkin juice in each hand, passing one to Hugo and dropping back down on to the sofa next to him, fingers absently fiddling with a thread on the outside seam of Hugo's jeans. James opened his pumpkin juice and drained half of it before setting it down on the coffee table and looking at Hugo inscrutably.

"What?" Hugo asked, a little warily, and James just plucked Hugo's unopened bottle from his hands, dropping it onto the table. "What?" Hugo asked again and James stood, clearing his throat a little awkwardly before stepping in front of Hugo and dropping to his knees between Hugo's feet, his hands falling to Hugo's thighs as he stared up at him very seriously.

"What're you - " Hugo started.

"This is me. Sober, and done worrying about what everyone else thinks, and wanting you," James said, and Hugo laughed, pressing his hand to the side of James's face. "Believe me?" James asked cheekily.

_Two can play that game_, Hugo said to himself, and he tilted his head thoughtfully.

"You know Potioneers, James," he said, shrugging as coolly as he could manage. "We only believe something after extremely thorough testing and the reliable replication of the finding across a range of - "

"Oh, shut up and come to bed," James laughed, springing to his feet and pulling Hugo up with him, already kissing him as he stumbled towards the bedrooms. Hugo didn't know which one they were headed for and as he felt James's hands creep underneath his t-shirt, he decided it probably didn't matter.

They collided with the wall outside James's room, one of James's legs slotting between Hugo's, thigh rubbing against his groin just perfectly.

"James," Hugo said, horrified by the way his voice trembled, not far off a whimper. James muttered something against Hugo's neck and then lifted his head to kiss him, a harsh and desperate meeting of mouths, teeth scraping over lips and tongues lashing against each other. Hugo couldn't help pulling James tight against him, fingers tugging at James's shirt and pressing hard into the smooth muscles underneath. James grunted against Hugo's mouth and drove his hips forward in an abrupt movement. Hugo groaned and let his head fall back against the wall, James chasing his mouth to kiss him again.

And then suddenly James's hand came to rest softly on Hugo's cheek, gentle pressure on his face turning the kiss into something less like a battle. Hot and hard and desperate had its own special appeal but Hugo couldn't help feeling hungry for more, something beyond clumsily eager fucking, something approaching genuine intimacy. He slid his arms around James's waist and they stood together, soft breath passing from mouth to mouth.

"Bed?" James suggested, and Hugo nodded, leaning forward for another kiss, almost embarrassingly eager for James's hands and his mouth and every perfect inch of his body. He reached for the hem of James's white shirt, tugging it up, breaking the kiss while James reached his arms up over his head, allowing Hugo to whip the shirt up and away. His thumb found one of James's nipples and pressed firmly while James kissed him again, his mouth soft by then, lips careful and deliberate in the way they moved against Hugo's. James grabbed Hugo's hands and started walking him backwards, leading him into James's own room.

"Lock - _mmph_ \- lock the door," James muttered in between kisses, reaching between them to make short work of Hugo's t-shirt. Hugo murmured happily at the press of James's fingers on his ribs, reaching for his wand. He locked the bedroom door and after another thought, waved his wand again and disabled the Floo in the living room.

"Good idea." James shoved Hugo towards the bed. He landed with a little bounce and leaned back on his elbows, watching James strip out of his trousers. Naked, he knelt between Hugo's splayed legs, reaching down to pull at his belt. "Off," he demanded roughly, and Hugo reached down to help him, fingers bumping as they worked together to rid Hugo of the offending material.

Hugo wriggled a little to help James pull his jeans off and couldn't help laughing at the way James's eyes, riveted to his body, widened as Hugo lifted up, encouraging James to yank the thick denim away. James's hand clamped tight around one of Hugo's hips and Hugo bit his lip to stifle a moan, only for James's free hand to reach up, thumb coaxing his lip out from between his teeth.

"Do it," James demanded. "I want to hear you."

"James - " Hugo gasped

"_Yeah_," James groaned in a breathless voice, leaning down to nuzzle along Hugo's jaw line, and then bite at his earlobe. Hugo couldn't help a snort of laughter and James looked at him sharply. "_What_?"

Hugo grinned. "Say my name, bitch."

James just stared for a moment before his face cracked into a bright smile and he laughed, stretching out between Hugo's legs, notching their hips together in a way that quelled all thoughts of laughter. "This is crazy," James said, warm delight in his voice.

"I know," Hugo said, running his fingers through James's hair. "I know."

James leaned down to kiss him again and Hugo wound his arms around James's neck, his body languid in complete surrender as James took over. James kissed him again and again, hands framing Hugo's face carefully, none of the kisses anything like deep enough to satisfy, and Hugo let out an exasperated moan against the warmth of James's mouth. James just laughed at first, but when Hugo tried tilting his hips upward, stretching his whole body out underneath him, James stopped laughing straight away, met Hugo's tentative motion with a firm thrust, and then they were moving together and it was rough and too dry and _perfect_.

"James..." Hugo breathed out, running his hands through James's hair and over his broad shoulders, across the sleek muscles on either side of his spine, scarcely able to believe that he was getting to touch James again. "James, James..." He felt giddily greedy, like now he had been given permission, he would take full possession of every inch of James's body, would touch him and kiss him and revel in every second of it.

"Talking too much," James joked, and he turned his head to kiss Hugo again, sweet and lingering, at odds with the hungry, desperate rhythm of their hips, and suddenly that was what Hugo wanted - gentle and indulgent and more than just needful groping.

"Wait, wait." Hugo was suddenly aware that this would be over far too quickly if they carried on the way they were going.

"But - " James said desperately, and Hugo shook his head before kissing him again.

"Trust me," Hugo said, pushing at James's shoulders. "On your back," he whispered, and when James obeyed, Hugo felt like his heart had turned over inside his chest. Instead of crumbling like he wanted to, Hugo forced himself to kneel astride James's thighs, looking down at him. There was so much golden skin waiting to be touched, tightly pebbled nipples crying out to be pinched, sleek muscles that would fit perfectly inside the curve of Hugo's hands as he mapped them out. He started off by running his fingertips over the sculpted shape of James's collarbones, the perfect hollow where sweet salty sweat gathered in glimmering traces, then lower across the slight swell of his pectoral muscles to tease at each dark brown nipple in turn.

James stared up at Hugo wordlessly throughout his attentions, eyes wide and lip bitten between his teeth in that expression he wore so often around Hugo, the one caught somewhere between awe and dread. When Hugo rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger while setting his mouth to the other, licking and sucking and teasing with his teeth, James let out a cracked, broken moan, his hands coming up abruptly to cradle the back of Hugo's head, holding him close, as though Hugo would ever want to be anywhere else right at that moment.

The moan seemed to signal the end of James's self-control and from then on, everything Hugo did met with some sort of response. Sometimes it was a groan of pleasure, sometimes a yowl of protest, and sometimes a pleading whimper for _moremoremore_. Either way, it set Hugo's heart pounding in his chest, because it was _him_. James was responding to _him_. Hugo's hands and lips and tongue were driving James to whine like that, or to twist his fingers tight into Hugo's curls and writhe underneath him, his whole body begging.

As Hugo slipped and slid his way down James's torso, kissing and biting, unable to resist sucking a red mark onto his ribs, he was equally unable to ignore the hard length of James's cock against his abdomen, painting slick trails against Hugo's skin whenever he moved. It seemed to call to him and Hugo dropped lower on James's body, lips tracing lazy spirals across his stomach, tongue dipping into his belly button. James got quieter as Hugo moved closer to his goal, swallowed pleas taking the place of heartfelt moans, James's whole body going taut with expectation, quivering under Hugo's hands and mouth.

When, finally, Hugo nuzzled at the base of James's cock, James let out a long, shuddering breath like maybe his prayers were being answered. Hugo opened his mouth and traced his tongue along the length of James's cock. James's hips bucked wildly, the slick head of his dick sliding over Hugo's cheek before Hugo wrapped his hand around its base, holding James steady as he sealed his lips around the tip and slid down. James choked out a moan and Hugo placed his free hand firmly on James's hip, holding him down against the bed. Not a moment too soon, as James's hips shifted again, only able to push his hot length a tiny little bit deeper into Hugo's mouth. Hugo relented and sank down deeper, the bitter taste of James flooding his mouth as he worked his tongue as much as he was able, curling his fingers tighter into James's hip, his stomach clenching at the thought of the white fingerprints that would be there when he moved away, they way they would fill with red again quickly, and maybe remain as small, smudged bruises.

"Oh my fucking - _Hugo_, god, yes - "

Hugo closed his eyes, the better to savour James's helpless pleas and breathless moans. It was by far the sexiest thing he'd ever heard and combined with James's fingers carding through his hair - not tugging, not trying to control his movements, but just _touching_ him, stroking through his tangled curls like James simply couldn't stop himself - it made Hugo almost pitifully eager for more. He pressed more firmly against the underside of James's shaft with his tongue and was rewarded with an outright croon of pleasure, a murmur of nonsense words, and James's fingers stroking over his scalp, slipping and tangling in his hair again. Hugo couldn't help himself, little moans and grunts escaping him as he sucked James, almost overwhelmed by the taste and the feel and the sheer, heady pleasure of James falling apart underneath him.

As Hugo moved back to mouth and lick at the slick length of James's cock, he glanced up, abruptly mesmerised by the sight of James, strong body gone languid in his bliss, head tipped back, mouth working soundlessly at the air. Pride be damned, Hugo knew that he would happily beg for this, to be allowed to take James into his mouth and worship every inch of him. As Hugo shifted lower to lap at the hard swell of James's balls, James let out a sound that couldn't really be described as anything other than a sob. _Weak point_, Hugo thought triumphantly, and he nuzzled at the tight globes, tongue and lips working together until James was shivering and shaking underneath him. When he returned to take James's cock back into his mouth, Hugo was rewarded with a breathless plea, for more, or to stop, or _something_. He just carried on, forcing himself down past the point of comfort, swallowing around the head of James's cock and revelling in the way James's whole body shuddered twice before his hands landed on Hugo's shoulders.

"Here, please, c'mere," James whispered. "God, you're amazing," he added, tugging Hugo up and kissing him roughly, hissing as Hugo's body grazed against his hard cock. Hugo sucked at James's lower lip, and then his tongue, deliberately pressing his thigh between James's legs, swallowing his keening cry.

"Can I fuck you?" Hugo asked.

"Yes - anything," James said, still breathless, wrapping his arms and legs around Hugo's body and clinging like a limpet. "After that? Anything you want," he promised, and Hugo had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to steady himself. James craned upwards and kissed him, and Hugo let out a shuddering breath into James's mouth, instantly hooked on the way James's tongue squirmed inside his mouth, like James was trying to taste himself. James squeezed his thighs tight around Hugo's hips and turned his head a little, his lips skating over Hugo's cheek to his ear.

"How - " James breathed. "How d'you want - "

"Oh, god," Hugo groaned. "I don't know, I - " he broke off and kissed James hard, fingers tangling in his hair, tongue licking into his mouth, hungry to taste more.

James pulled away from the kiss. "C'mere." With Hugo as lust-addled as he felt, James had an easy time reversing their positions, shifting to straddle Hugo's lap, kneeling above him, eyes flashing pure heat as they trailed across Hugo's body. James sucked two of his own fingers into his mouth and reached down behind himself. Hugo belatedly registered his intentions and batted James's hand away.

"Don't, don't - " he said, pushing James gently down onto his back. "Let me."

"Yeah." James planted his feet flat on the bed with his knees bent, legs falling open like a gesture of invitation. Hugo twisted his upper body around and scrabbled through James's bedside drawer, unwilling to fully tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him, the sight of James sprawled there like temptation personified. Finally his hand closed around a little pot of magical lubricant and he turned back to James, shuffling closer and fumbling with the pot. The lid opened with a flick of his thumb, and Hugo spread the oil on his fingers, never breaking eye contact with James, whose chest was rising and falling shallowly, dark eyes burning into Hugo's.

"Okay?" Hugo asked, shocked by the way his own voice trembled. James nodded, looking as shaky as Hugo felt and Hugo bent his head to kiss the inside of James's thigh. He reached down with slicked fingers and James tilted his hips up eagerly, urging Hugo onwards. It was no effort at all to slide a finger into James's body, and James let out a long sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

"So easy," Hugo teased.

"Shut the fuck up," James wheezed, and Hugo laughed breathlessly, pressing his finger deeper into James and curling it. James wriggled impatiently and groaned, "Hurry up."

"Okay," Hugo nodded, and even two fingers were still easy, James lifting his hips again, fucking himself on Hugo's fingers. "God, you're unbelievable," Hugo groaned, leaning forward and kissing James as he stretched and twisted his fingers.

"Little bit more," James urged through gritted teeth, and Hugo nodded shakily, pulling back from the kiss to slide a third finger into James. James hissed in a breath and Hugo looked at him in abrupt concern but James just shook his head and deliberately relaxed around Hugo's gently probing fingers.

Hugo chewed at his lip, trying to restrain himself from just withdrawing his fingers and plunging his aching cock into James instead. James was so hot and tight around Hugo's fingers, and the idea of that impossible grip somewhere far more satisfying than his fingers made Hugo's head spin. Still, he persisted in stretching James, working his fingers in and out, heart pounding in his throat as James's tight rim clung to him, pulling him in determinedly. Hugo reached down and curled the fingers of his free hand around James's cock, distantly surprised at the heat, the decadent wetness.

"Stop, enough, fuck, please..." James begged and Hugo nodded, lunging down to kiss James, their mouths harsh and open against each other, teeth scraping on lips, tongues tangling desperately. Hugo carefully pulled his fingers out of James and barely had time to breathe before James knocked him onto his back, eyes scoring hot trails up and down Hugo's body. Then James climbed on top of him again, hard hands pressing Hugo into the bed, always so bossy even when he had a look in his eyes like he might _die_ if Hugo didn't get inside him in the next minute.

"Fuck," James muttered, trying and failing to impale himself on Hugo's cock. "For fuck's sake! Help me," he ground out and Hugo scraped together a few brain cells, wrapping one hand around the base of his straining erection and settling the other on James's hip, steadying him.

"Let me up, idiot," Hugo ordered, and James's hands fell from his shoulders, allowing Hugo to push himself half upright, his breath caught in his throat as he watched James brace his hands on his own upper thighs instead as he sank down onto Hugo with far more accuracy than before. Hugo swallowed twice, unable to comprehend the slick, tight, overwhelming _heat_ as the head of his cock pressed into James's body, the sweet grasping pull of him completely irresistible. James pushed at him weakly but Hugo got the message and fell down onto his back again, all the breath in his body forced out as James breathed hard, working his hips in little rocking movements. When he settled against Hugo's hips, Hugo realised tremblingly that he was in - _all_ the way inside James's body.

"Oh - " James said, his voice a barely recognisable little flutter of breath, sweet and honest and open.

"James - " Hugo pleaded, reaching desperately for him. Their fingers curled tightly together, James's blunt nails digging into the back of Hugo's hands. Hugo lifted James's left hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles before James gave him a warm, soft smile and pressed their hands into the pillow on either side of Hugo's head. The very tip of James's pink tongue made a circuit of his dry lips before he pressed down on Hugo's hands, using the leverage to raise himself slowly up the length of Hugo's cock. Hugo's breath caught in his throat and he struggled to keep his hips still as James looked down at him through intense, narrowed eyes.

"Hugo," James said through gritted teeth, forcing himself back down again, so, so slowly, inch by torturous inch, his eyes going soft, lips gently parted, the inside of his mouth red and inviting.

"More, James," Hugo pleaded and James shook his head, evidently determined to maintain those same, punishingly slow movements for a while longer. "You're a tease," Hugo managed to grit out, but he couldn't muster any real irritation, so caught up was he in the sweet, grasping perfection of James's body.

"God, that's good." James breathed out involuntarily as he sank down hard again, grinding his hips against Hugo's in minute circles, each one setting off shivering sparks of pleasure. Hugo was pinned, trapped, just as surely as he had been the time before, when James had held him down and fucked him, and he squeezed James's hands tighter, flexing his fingertips against the strained tendons in the back of his hands.

"Please - " Hugo managed, and James laughed shakily, thighs tightening as he worked himself faster on Hugo's cock, nowhere near fast enough to satisfy, but at least quicker than the deadly slow pace of before. It was the same blissful friction, but sped up, less time in between each thrust for Hugo to catch his breath. Twisting his wrists, Hugo managed to break his hands free of James's and reached for him, settling them on James's trembling thighs, fingers digging into the tightly bunched muscles. James gave a broken little hum of pleasure and his hands landed on Hugo's chest instead, curling into claws, and Hugo found himself relishing the idea of the red trails that James's blunt nails would inevitably leave behind on his fair skin.

"Yeah..."

"C'mon - "

"Please..."

Hugo wasn't in the least bit sure which of them was speaking when, but whether James was responding to Hugo's words or to the less overt pleadings of his body, the end result was the same. James bit the corner of his lower lip as if he was concentrating on some difficult task and started working himself harder above Hugo. Hugo groaned at the feeling of the strong muscles under his hands bunching and relaxing as James started raising and lowering himself more forcefully, his gaze still burning into Hugo, the same intense fire spitting sparks from his warm brown eyes.

"James, please," Hugo whispered, unsure exactly what he was begging for, as he curled his hand around James's hip and tried to urge him harder, faster. James bit his lip again as he looked down and Hugo was overcome with the desire to kiss that swollen, tortured lip, to suckle away the indentations from James's teeth.

Dropping his hands from James's body, Hugo pushed himself up on his elbows, forcing James into a new position that made them both cry out, Hugo's hand hooking around the back of James's neck while the other wound around his waist, keeping James close so that their bodies never parted when Hugo took advantage of James's unawareness to roll them over, shifting their positions so that he lay splayed between James's legs, buried balls-deep inside his arse and perfectly placed to fuck him just as hard as they both wanted.

"Oh god, oh - " James managed, and then Hugo was moving, shuffling onto his knees, hands clinging tight to James's hips before he pulled back and slammed forward again. They both shouted, Hugo in blind pleasure, James probably in shock until Hugo leaned down and kissed his mouth, James's lower lip rough against his where he'd chewed it ragged. Then James was reduced to a wordless sound of pure lust, his thighs tightening around Hugo's hips as Hugo fucked him, drawing back from their kiss only far enough to trace the tip of his nose along James's cheekbone. Hugo took his weight on his hands as he fought to establish some kind of rhythm rather than just blindly surrendering to the pleasure of James's hot, tight body, of James pleading and helpless, spread out beneath him.

James reached up above his head with one hand, gripping a bar on the headboard and meeting Hugo's thrusts with increasing vigour. Hugo bowed his head and a drop of sweat fell from his chin to splash on James's chest. Circling his hips, Hugo chewed the inside of his own cheek, determined to find the angle that would -

_Ah-ha_. That would do that, in fact. On one particular stroke, James's body bowed upwards urgently, and his free hand reached up to tangle in Hugo's hair, tight enough to hurt but Hugo couldn't bring himself to care because James's whole face was wracked with pleasure.

"Do that again," he pleaded, and Hugo nodded, shifting back enough to maintain the angle, and then very deliberately thrusted shallowly in and out of James's body, each see-sawing brush across James's prostate greeted with increasingly incoherent _ah_s of pleasure. James's fingers slowly relaxed in Hugo's hair, his whole body trembling as he ground his hips back against Hugo's desperately. It was a word Hugo would never normally think to apply to his cousin, but right in that moment, James looked vulnerable, delicate, his eyes failing to hide a single thing as he stared up at Hugo, open worship in his gaze.

"Shh, it's okay, I've got you," Hugo breathed, and somehow in the midst of lust and desperation, he still wanted to hold James close, to soothe him through the vulnerability. "I've got - "

James's eyes darkened and he turned his head away. "Hugo - "

"Don't," Hugo pleaded, trembling fingers catching hold of James's chin and turning him forward again. "Let me see you," he begged, and James squeezed his eyes tight shut for a long moment before opening them again, in the same instant as he tightened his legs around Hugo's waist and tilted his hips up like an offering, the motion making his body clench and flutter around Hugo's dick.

"Harder," he said, in a tight, tiny voice, and for a moment Hugo doubted what he'd heard, until James's expression turned impatient and he dug his heels into the small of Hugo's back, tipping his head back in pleasure when Hugo rocked forward almost viciously. James's fingernails scrabbled at his back, probably leaving marks which would be the twins of those on his front, and that simple movement seemed to signal the end of any kind of restraint.

Hugo fucked James as hard as he'd ever dared to fuck anyone, fingers digging into James's hips as he helped manoeuvre him into position. His head swam at the noises it made, both the sound of the actual fucking and the cries that it wrung out of James. They were broken, hoarse, nearly animalistic sounds, and they made Hugo feel about ten feet tall, that he was able to reduce James to this lustful wreck. Not that Hugo was faring much better as he pounded into the sweet heat of James's arse, aware all the time that he was hurtling towards the edge, that orgasm would strike and strike suddenly, and that it would leave him utterly incoherent.

Under normal circumstances, giving James anything that even vaguely resembled an order was usually a sure fire way to guarantee that he would do the exact opposite. Still, Hugo decided that these were far from normal circumstances, and there was something he wanted so badly that he felt like his whole body was itching for it.

"Bring yourself off," he said, trying to phrase it like a demand rather than a breathy request. James groaned and raised a hand to his mouth, biting the back of his knuckles like he was trying to keep in sobs. "Do it," Hugo said, and James's hand fell between their bodies instead.

It seemed to happen at once; almost the instant James wrapped a hand around himself he was coming, hips notching higher and harder against Hugo's, body spasming and trembling, fluttering and clenching, and Hugo didn't stand a chance. He managed a few more thrusts into that perfect heat, body pressed close enough that he could feel spurts of James's come smearing against their bellies, close enough that James cried out all over again with the pleasure of it. As he'd expected, Hugo's own orgasm hit so hard that he lost himself in it, haphazardly thrusting into James's body, the resultant sweet cries barely reaching his ears through the haze of pleasure.

As Hugo started to come back to himself he registered the salt tang of sweat in his mouth, realised he'd sunk his teeth into the meat of James's shoulder. He soothed the livid mark with gentle laps of his tongue, aftershocks sending his hips shuddering forward again involuntarily. James let out a long, almost protesting sigh and unlocked his legs from around Hugo's waist, letting them fall to the mattress. Hugo had to force himself to pull out of James's body because everything in him was clamouring to stay, telling him that he was finally home.

"Fuck," he said shakily as he slid completely out of James's arse, James's body still clinging as though he didn't want Hugo to pull out either. Unable to resist, Hugo pressed a kiss to James's collarbone, lapping up the sting of sweat while James panted beneath him, one hand sliding along Hugo's side, fingers clumsy. Hugo reluctantly levered himself off James's body and fell down onto his side next to him, unable to look at anything other than James, still shivering and unbearably beautiful in post-coital pleasure. James barely twitched as Hugo's hand landed on his stomach, fingers spread wide, greedy for as much sensation as he'd be allowed.

The silence between them stretched, passing through exhausted, into comfortable, and then into something else, some tense and trembling lull that Hugo found himself unable to break. Instead he just stroked James's flushed skin gently, fingers easily marking out the handful of dark freckles on his skin, so at odds with Hugo's own pale, much more thoroughly freckled complexion. The sight of his own long fingers on James's stomach made something tighten in Hugo's stomach, even more so when James's hand lifted to cover his own, blunt fingers just another contrast between them. Their fingers tangled together lazily and Hugo couldn't resist leaning forward and dropping a soft kiss into the hair at James's temple. He should have known better than to move or attract attention because James's fingers tightened convulsively on his own and he let out a thick sounding sigh, like his breath had caught in his throat on the way out.

"Hey," Hugo said, and James turned his head to look at him enquiringly. "Okay?" Hugo asked.

James laughed. "Your dick's not that big."

"Yeah it is," Hugo joked. "And that's not what I meant."

"I know," James nodded, turning onto his side to look at Hugo. He reached out a hand to touch Hugo's face gently, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "I meant what I said, earlier. You're amazing."

"Eh. One does one's best," Hugo said with a casual shrug, and James laughed, kissing Hugo's bare shoulder and curling around him. The pressure of his fingertips against Hugo's ribs was firm and comforting, lulling Hugo into sleep.

The next day, Hugo wasn't due at the Academy until the afternoon. James woke early and stumbled off to the Floo to leave a message at the shop for Uncle George before he staggered back into bed, pawing at Hugo until he was suitably comfortable and then dozing off again. Hugo felt his heart pound madly in his chest as he squeezed James tight, burying his face in the messy black thatch of his hair and breathing deep.

"Huh?" James mumbled.

"Nothing," Hugo said. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmm..."

_I love you_, Hugo thought, as fiercely as he could, and James shifted in his sleep, a snuffling snore escaping.

Eventually, of course, they had to drag themselves out of their lust-addled haze and back to reality, and Hugo was pleasantly surprised by how uncomplicated everything was once they did so. James seemed to have utterly shrugged off his doubts, and he had no qualms about kissing Hugo in passing, or in dropping absent-mindedly intimate touches onto the back of his neck.

The simplicity of it all was shocking, especially after all that had gone before, and it took a while for Hugo to adjust to the overwhelming sensation that he had _finally_ got what he wanted. Even more, he'd got what he wanted and nothing bad seemed to have happened as a result. James seemed happier, lighter in spirit, than he had for a long time, and Hugo couldn't help feeling a little bit smug about that, sometimes teasing James that if it wasn't for Hugo's persistence, they'd never have got this far. The teasing usually fell flat though, because James just nodded seriously in agreement, or came up with some highly adult way of thanking Hugo for his perseverance.

When Hugo woke one morning a few weeks later to find James already gone and a scribbled note stuck to the inside of the bedroom door (_Morning, gorgeous. Could hardly bring myself to leave. I'll be thinking about you all day. J xx_) it suddenly seemed much more real, and Hugo went through his whole day with a ridiculous grin on his face, not even caring when Matherson merely grunted and shrugged at Hugo's perfect, highly concentrated Shrinking Solution. Although he knew it was ridiculous and that James would mock him mercilessly, he stopped off in Diagon Alley on the way home and grabbed a few ingredients for dinner, briefly debating adding a bottle of wine to the pile before deciding James would never let him live it down. Hugo had only been home for fifteen minutes when he heard the Floo roar into life and James padded through into the kitchen, looking interested.

"What're you doing?" James asked, hooking his chin over Hugo's shoulder, arms wrapping around his waist.

Hugo looked down at the half-chopped onion. "Er - cooking," he said, stating the obvious.

"By hand as well," James observed. "Someone's out to please."

Hugo shrugged. "Yeah, well. Maybe someone's worth pleasing."

James laughed, kissing Hugo's cheek. "Do you need me to help cook or can I get in the shower first?"

"Go shower," Hugo nodded. "I like my food to be _not poisonous_."

"Hey! I can cook."

"Right. That explains why you _never_ do."

"Nope. That's because you love me enough to cook for me every night like a good wife should," James said, grinning against Hugo's cheek.

Hugo jabbed his elbow into James's ribs. "You realise I'm holding a knife?"

"Blah blah blah."

"Go and get in the shower, you idiot. And don't take all night, either, it's ready in half an hour."

"Give us a kiss?" James requested, and Hugo half turned towards him.

"Watch it though. I've got onion-hands."

"Okay," James murmured, leaning in carefully and kissing Hugo slow and gentle for a long moment so that the only parts of their bodies to touch were their mouths, before he stepped back and kissed Hugo's nose. "Get cooking, wifey," he joked, then turned and headed for the bathroom.

"I want a divorce," Hugo yelled after him, and James's laughter echoed back down the corridor.

Hugo grinned down like a fool at the pile of chopped onion before shaking himself and starting to assemble more ingredients for a basic chicken pasta. Rinsing his hands off, he flicked his wand towards the radio and turned it up loud, drowning out James's tuneless caterwauling in the shower. He'd just retired to the front room while the sauce for the chicken simmered gently when he heard James leave the bathroom and clatter into his bedroom. Hugo shook his head in amusement, always amazed at how much noise James managed to generate even in the simplest tasks.

"Hey, come here," James shouted from the bedroom a few minutes later, and Hugo rolled his eyes, flicking his wand towards the kitchen to turn everything off briefly. When he got into the bedroom James was naked, simultaneously scrubbing his hair with a towel and digging through his chest of drawers for clean clothes. Hugo leaned against the doorframe for a moment, enjoying the view.

"What?" Hugo asked eventually, and James turned, dropping both the towel and a pair of black jeans onto the floor and closing the distance between them in three quick strides.

"This," he said, pulling Hugo into a warm embrace and a sweet, fiery kiss. "Can dinner wait?" he asked breathlessly, his skin still damp and hot from the shower.

"Yeah," Hugo nodded, laughing as James fumbled with the tiny buttons on his cuffs. "Struggling?" he teased, and James gave up altogether in favour of kissing Hugo again, both hands plunging deep into his hair. Hugo reached down and wrapped his hand around James's dick, the warm flesh hardening easily for him, while James moaned into their kiss, transferring his attentions to the buttons running down Hugo's chest, managing to undo several of them before Hugo pulled back and looked at James, pushing him gently until his back collided with the side of the wardrobe, dropping to his knees.

"_Fuck_," James said, looking down at Hugo. Of course, while Hugo knew that most men would never turn down a blow job, and while he wasn't disingenuous enough to deny his own not inconsiderable skills, the way James turned to mush just at the idea of this was always gratifying. He set his hands on James's hips and looked up at him through his tangled curls, deliberately moistening his lower lip before ghosting a kiss onto the very head of James's cock as it hardened fully. Hugo took a moment to sit back on his heels and just _look_ at James, cock hard and curving slightly towards his belly, the end already slick enough that the taste burst in Hugo's mouth when he leaned forward and carefully licked the moisture off. James let out a throaty whine and the sound of his head knocking into the wardrobe echoed in the room.

"James, James, James," Hugo teased. "You are _so easy_."

James laughed. "Shut up. You're gagging for it, aren't you? Come on, then."

"Oh, don't do me any favours," Hugo said wryly and James laughed, running his fingers through Hugo's hair, looking down at him with a bright smile on his face.

"Please," James said simply, his fingers stroking down Hugo's cheek. Hugo smiled at him, and licked again, not making any effort to hide his own little whimper of approval as he fitted his lips around the crown of James's dick and slowly, slowly slid down, undulating his tongue against the underside of James's shaft.

"Yes," James whispered, his fingers tracing the stretch of Hugo's lips. Hugo groaned and curled his fingers around James's hips, pulling him forward encouragingly. James bit his lip, obviously struggling to restrain himself when restraint was the last thing on Hugo's mind. He backed off and started bobbing his mouth up and down along the first couple of inches of James's dick until James cried out in frustration and sunk his hand into Hugo's hair, his hips pushing forward hard. Hugo couldn't deny the curl of lust that unfurled in his belly at the treatment and he deliberately opened his eyes to look up at James, broadcasting his approval.

"Goddamn," James muttered, his voice husky as he repeated the motion again, more gently this time, but still deep, far enough that Hugo had to really work to take it all, throat working convulsively and leaving James breathless and panting, one hand scrabbling at the wardrobe behind him, the other still tight in Hugo's hair.

"Boys! Are you home?" an all too familiar voice called, and they both froze for a split second, eyes meeting in mutual horror.

"Holy shit, that's my _dad_," James breathed, his face drained of all colour.

"It's okay. It's _okay_," Hugo whispered fiercely, getting to his feet and wiping his mouth at the same time as he pushed James further into the room. He summoned James's wand from his bedside table and quickly set his own shirt to rights before stepping out of the room, shutting the door quietly and ducking out of the hallway and into the living room.

"Hi, Uncle Harry," he said, trying to force his expression into neutrality, resolutely ignoring the way his heart was pounding rapidly.

"Hey, Hugo," Harry said, smiling pleasantly. "James around?"

"Just out of the shower, I think," Hugo said with a shrug, and as the initial surge of panic started to die away when his uncle looked anything but suspicious, Hugo found that he was pretty well in his element. Covering up a secret was nothing new. "Cup of tea?" he asked casually.

"Please," Harry nodded, and Hugo led him into the kitchen, startled by Harry's laugh. "He's not got you cooking for him?" Harry asked despairingly, and Hugo shook his head.

"Only when pizza doesn't appeal."

"He would live on the stuff, given half the chance," Harry admitted.

"You okay, Harry?" Hugo asked, reaching past his uncle for sugar and loose tea.

"Fine, mate. How's the Academy?"

"Good. Matherson's still a prick, but it's good. Hey, d'you mind doing this?" Hugo asked. "I'll see what's keeping James."

"Not at all," Harry said, taking the tea from Hugo's hands eagerly. "_You_ couldn't brew a decent cup if your life depended on it."

"So I'm told," Hugo said, rolling his eyes, ducking out of the kitchen, unable to help a grin as he yelled down the corridor, "Hey, James, your dad's here."

James's bedroom door opened a crack and he glared at Hugo before yanking him into the room. Hugo looked James up and down with an arch smile on his face.

"_What_?" James hissed.

"Looking good," Hugo teased, reaching out to straighten James's t-shirt.

"Shut up."

"Okay." Hugo leaned forward and kissed James, taking advantage of his obvious shock to make the kiss linger as long as possible before James shoved him away.

"What the fuck d'you think you're doing?" he demanded in a shaky whisper. "My _dad_ \- "

"Is making tea, keep your hair on," Hugo said dismissively. "Don't _worry_."

"Easier said than done with you - doing that," James said, flicking his fingers at Hugo. But he wrapped an arm around Hugo's shoulders and kissed the side of his head in apology. "Go on, give me a minute."

"Alright," Hugo nodded. "Really. Don't worry."

"Right," James said quietly, and Hugo hurried back to the kitchen in time to see Harry turning away from the teapot.

"Perfect timing," Harry said. "Where's the cups?"

"Oh, here," Hugo said, reaching down into the cupboard which contained anything halfway breakable. Hugo doubted the wisdom of keeping everything fragile in one place, but James insisted, and it was either that or cardboard plates like five-year-olds, and Hugo worried that James really wouldn't mind that.

"Ta," Harry said, adding, "Oh, hey."

"Hi, Dad," James said, his voice just _slightly_ less than casual. "What's going on?"

"Just wanted a chat," Harry said, and from the corner of his eye, Hugo saw James's shoulders slump.

"Another exciting career opportunity in an office? Not interested."

Harry sighed. "Not about that."

"I'll, er - I'll go," Hugo said, and they both turned to him, James furious and Harry surprised.

"Don't be daft," Harry said, and then, turning back to James who quickly tried to look a little more neutral, "I'd like to be able to have a conversation with you without it being about the whole _constant war_ thing you and your mother are so good at."

James shrugged, but he took the cup of tea Harry pressed into his hands. "Not my fault."

"No," Harry agreed. "But you could play the game a bit better, couldn't you?"

"I - "

"I'm just saying," Harry said patiently. "She gives you a leaflet about opportunities in the Ministry? _Take the bloody leaflet_. No one's saying you have to read it."

"Okay, okay," James said, rolling his eyes. "So what did you actually want, beyond giving me tactical advice?"

Hugo winced as he turned back to the dinner. James was never normally so brusque with his dad, no matter how bad things got between him and his mum, and Hugo knew it was because of the near-miss they'd had earlier, that it still had James on edge.

"I _told you_," Harry sighed. "Just a chat. Just a non-career based, entirely free of parental disapproval or teenage theatricals, _chat_."

"Oh," James said, and Hugo willed him to relax a bit. "Okay. Front room?" he asked, and Harry smiled at him, obviously relieved.

"You coming, Hugo?" Harry asked.

"I'll finish dinner," Hugo said. "Would you like to stay, Harry?"

"Nah," Harry said. "Ginny'll kill me."

James shot Hugo a look but didn't say anything, and Hugo half-turned to hide his laughter, tipping a wink at James as he followed his dad out of the room. Before long Hugo could hear them talking and laughing, their voices competing with the sound of the television. Hugo relaxed as he finished off the dinner.

He'd long ago learned not to get involved in James's frequent run-ins with his mum. Although James was happy as anything working with Uncle George, creating things that delighted children and annoyed adults, Aunt Ginny seemed to feel that something more than happiness was required for her eldest son. Hugo's dad had even tried to step in, and Hugo had overheard his whispered comment that Ginny was behaving just like their mother had with Fred and George, and look how well that had worked out. Nothing that anyone said seemed to make a difference though, and these days most people accepted the constant friction between them as just how things were. James certainly didn't appear to give it much thought, and Hugo knew the only time it really bothered him was when it interfered with his relationships with his dad and siblings.

By the time he'd finished heating the chicken and stirring some herbs through the pasta, Harry and James had returned with their teacups. Harry sniffed at the steam rising from the chicken and groaned.

"Wish I could stay, now," he laughed and James shoved him gently in the shoulder.

"Sorry, old man. You already said no, and Hugo's cooking is too good to waste," he declared.

"Alright, alright," Harry nodded. "See you both next weekend at the Burrow?"

"Really?" James groaned. "Already?"

"I'll drag him kicking and screaming if needs be," Hugo teased and James gave him a withering glance, muttering _traitor_.

Harry smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less. See you later, boys. Be good."

Hugo trailed after them into the living room and waited until the flickering green flames disappeared behind Harry before he turned to James. "You alright?"

"I - not sure," James admitted and Hugo cuffed the back of his head gently and then wound his arm around James's shoulders, pulling him close. James stiffened and moved back, glancing over Hugo's shoulder towards the Floo. "Let me just lock up," he requested and Hugo nodded, letting his arm fall to his side again.

"So," James said when he turned back from the Floo, a bright smile on his face. "Where were we?"

"James - "

"Don't," James insisted, reaching out his hand and pulling Hugo to him. Hugo wrapped his arms around James's waist, hoping for the best, but as he'd always known it would at some point, reality had intruded, and James's kisses were hesitant in a way they hadn't been for a long time.

"Come on," Hugo said gently. "Let's eat."

James nodded, rubbing his hands over his eyes and letting Hugo pull him into the kitchen. They deliberately didn't talk about Harry's visit, or the near miss from earlier. James devoted himself to demolishing the heaped plate of pasta and chicken that Hugo placed in front of him. "S'good," James nodded and Hugo glanced up at him, laughing before he reached forward and wiped a smear of sauce from the corner of James's mouth.

"You're so suave and classy," he said dryly, sucking the sauce off his thumb. "I can see why I fell for you."

"Shut up," James said, but he smiled as he said it, bumping their feet together under the table.

After they'd eaten, Hugo flicked his wand at the dishes and set them to cleaning themselves.

"Night in front of the telly?" he suggested, and James nodded.

"You go ahead, I'll be in in a minute," he said. Hugo looked at him, a little puzzled, but went into the living room anyway, switching on the tv and lighting a small fire in the grate.

"Hey," James said a few minutes later, leaning in the doorway and holding out a wine bottle and two glasses. "I got this for us on my way home."

"You did?" Hugo asked, laughing.

"Yeah. Just - you know."

Hugo raised an eyebrow at the slight flush on James's cheeks but didn't pass any comment as James settled next to him on the sofa, pouring dark red wine into each glass, passing one to Hugo.

"Cheers," James said, clinking their glasses together. Hugo couldn't keep the baffled look off his face and James narrowed his eyes. "It's perfectly normal," he said.

Hugo laughed and pressed himself closer, resting his head on James's shoulder and tucking his feet underneath himself. "For us, normal is still something of a revelation," he pointed out.

"Yeah." James sighed, turning his head and kissing Hugo's brow before taking a drink of his wine and relaxing back into the sofa.

The tension dissipated without words. James's fingers traced idly up and down the length of Hugo's upper arm. When Hugo leaned forward to top up their glasses, James hooked their legs together, and Hugo looked at him in amusement until he saw the building heat in James's eyes. Setting the glasses down on the table, Hugo let James pull him closer, and they fell together on the sofa, James stretched out languidly beneath Hugo's body.

They shed their clothes unhurriedly, stopping to kiss so often that Hugo started to wonder whether he'd ever get out of his shirt, let alone anything else. Eventually though, they lay naked together, James's hands tracing the line of Hugo's spine, one leg bent at the knee and the other braced on the floor. Hugo gave James a long, leisurely kiss and propped himself up on one elbow just far enough to reach his free hand in between their bodies, wrapping his fingers as well as he could around the both of them. James hummed in pleasure, tipping his head back onto the arm of the sofa. The movement made his Adam's apple stand out and Hugo couldn't resist mouthing at it, the rasp of James's stubble sharp against his lips.

"C'mon," James breathed, his throat shifting under Hugo's mouth as he spoke. It took a moment for Hugo to find a comfortable position but once he did he started stroking the two of them, squeezing tight as he approached the base and twisting his hand as he reached the top, pressing their weeping cockheads together. James hummed happily and wrapped one hand around the back of Hugo's neck, sliding the other down to help him out. They worked together to bring themselves off, slow and lazy, as though they had all the time in the world, James sometimes breaking off to kiss Hugo deeply, soft kisses that melted into one another just the same way as their bodies slid together.

When Hugo came James was the one to moan, lifting his hand to his mouth and sucking the slick evidence of Hugo's pleasure off of each finger in turn. Barely lucid, Hugo kept right on stroking James, distantly reflecting that he had already learned the best ways to hurry this along, to force James to join him in incoherent bliss. Sure enough it only took a few strategic strokes before James came with barely a sound, head tipped back, the tendons in his neck standing out clearly, perfectly biteable. Hugo indulged himself in the urge and James laughed breathlessly, running his hand through Hugo's hair.

"Vampire," he teased, and Hugo sucked on the flesh between his teeth until James squirmed. They fell still again, James's fingertips stroking through the sheen of sweat that had gathered on Hugo's back.

"I can hear you thinking," Hugo ventured a little while later, turning his head to glance up at James.

"What? No, I - " James protested, and Hugo sought out his hand, tangling their fingers together.

"Tell me," he insisted, resting his head on James's chest again, lulled by the strong pounding of his heart and the gentle play of his fingers through Hugo's hair.

"I was thinking...about earlier," James said, adding after a laden pause, "I was thinking that we could... We could go - away."

Hugo closed his eyes as James twirled a stray curl of hair around his fingers. "Away?"

"Somewhere no one knows us," James said wistfully, running his toes along Hugo's calf. "Somewhere we can be whatever we want to be."

"Like...a holiday?"

James cleared his throat awkwardly. "More...more long-term than that."

Hugo laughed and squeezed James's hand. "And what? Never see our family again?"

Instead of the laughter and the _yeah, only joking_ that Hugo was expecting, James just fell silent for a long moment, one arm snaking tight around his back. "Rather that than never see you again if they find out and - whatever," James admitted.

"It won't come to that," Hugo promised. "I won't let it."

"We wouldn't have to _never_ come back," James said, and Hugo looked up at him carefully, realisation dawning.

"Are you serious about this?"

"I don't know. Maybe," James shrugged. "I just... This is shit. All this - locking the Floo, locking the doors, it's like we're only in a relationship inside these four walls and - I don't know. It's not enough."

"Oh," Hugo said quietly.

"No, no, no," James said hastily. "I mean - it is enough, obviously. If it has to be. But it doesn't have to be."

"What's brought this on?" Hugo asked, awkwardly scrabbling upright and pulling James with him to sit side-by-side.

"I just - earlier today...we shouldn't have to panic like that," James said. "I don't care how wrong anyone else _thinks_ it is, I _know_ it can't be wrong to love someone the way I love you."

"James..."

"I do. More than - I'd do anything for you," James swore.

"James, we can't just walk out on our whole lives," Hugo said, his voice gentle.

"As long as I've got you - " James started, but Hugo shook his head.

"No, James. We stay. One way or another, we stay."

James looked at Hugo as though he'd just suggested opening a Skrewt breeding centre in the corner of the living room. "You mean...tell people?"

"Maybe. Not everyone, but...I think you're overestimating the scale of the reaction."

"Really?" James asked flatly.

"Really," Hugo promised. "I mean, Gran, yeah, she'll be pissed off - "

"Don't even joke," James groaned. "Two sets of potential great-grandkids gone in one fell swoop? I don't think we'd ever hear the end of it."

Hugo laughed, and James turned his head, kissing Hugo's shoulder.

"I'm - scared," he admitted quietly, shaping the words against Hugo's skin and Hugo nodded. "My mum, she already...she already thinks I'm pissing my life away, and - "

"Shut up, James, I'm a catch."

"Of course - of _course_ you are!" James said. "It's not about that. It'll just be one more expectation I've not lived up to and..."

"I know. It's okay. Here's the deal." Hugo stroked the back of James's neck. "We'll tell exactly who you want, exactly when you want. And whatever anyone says, the outcome of all this is going to be you and me, together, here or somewhere else."

"Promise?"

"I swear," Hugo said.

"Alright," James nodded, deliberately ducking his head to look Hugo in the eye as he nodded again. "Alright."

"Yeah?" Hugo asked, not quite having expected such a ready acquiescence.

"Yeah," James said after a pause, squeezing Hugo's hand. "I reserve full rights to tell you I told you so when they disown us for a pair of perverts."

"Shut up," Hugo scoffed. "They're not - they wouldn't."

"Maybe," James said, a little warily.

"We don't have to tell," Hugo relented. "We can just...remember to lock the Floo in future."

"No," James said, suddenly sounding determined. "No, that sounds shit. You deserve better. I'm going to give you better."

"My hero," Hugo teased, relieved when James laughed and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Can we tell Teddy?" James asked as their mouths parted, and Hugo looked at him a little warily.

"I - yeah."

"I just hate lying to him. And I don't think...he won't mind, you know? Or...well I'm pretty sure he won't."

Hugo nodded. "Alright."

"Are you scared of Teddy?" James asked jokingly.

"No!" Hugo said. "But you've got to admit, he's not exactly _rational_ when it comes to you three."

"Well, you know," James shrugged. "The sibling thing. I'm sure Rose will have something to say."

"I wonder," Hugo said.

"Wonder what?" James asked, maybe a little sharply.

Hugo shook his head. "I don't know. Sometimes the way she asks me about you... A little too sympathetic, maybe."

James walked two fingers down Hugo's side. "I'm sorry."

"What? Why?"

"For - before," James said. "The way I acted, it - "

"Forget it," Hugo said firmly. "Really."

"But - "

"Oh, okay then," Hugo said with a long-suffering sigh. "You're right, you hurt my feelings _terribly_, the only way you could ever make it up to me is with a regular supply of blow jobs. Hop to."

James laughed and pulled Hugo to his feet and into a bruising kiss before nodding towards the bedroom, delivering a ringing slap to Hugo's arse and bounding out of the room. Hugo watched him go, unable to deny his amusement as he flicked his wand to extinguish the fire, and then again to charm the glasses and what remained of the wine to follow him into the bedroom. As he did so, he heard James's impatient shout.

"_Any time today, lover_," he yelled, and Hugo shook his head, fighting down a smile.

Tomorrow, they'd doubtless have to work out whom to tell, how and when to tell them, and a hundred other details. Hugo was sure they would argue about it, and he knew for certain that they'd argue about other things in the future. James would drive him mad on a regular basis, he'd never learn to cook edible food, he'd be bossy and self-absorbed, but he'd also be _there_. He'd be Hugo's to love and curse in equal measure, Hugo's to adore and fight with, to fuck and party with. It wouldn't be easy, just like any relationship worth having wasn't easy (and maybe they were starting out with a few more points against them than the average couple) but Hugo was sure of one thing. If they lost each other it wouldn't be down to anyone else's moral judgement.

"Come on before I lose my stiffy!" James hollered and Hugo pressed his eyes tightly shut.

James's complete lack of class on the other hand...

Hugo turned the lights off behind him, still smiling.


End file.
